Momentum and Impulse Connection
by DonnaForPresident
Summary: Rose is getting fed up with the Doctor's flirty behaviour. And who would blame her? There comes a time when holding hands just isn't enough anymore. Ten/Rose. Six chapters. Rating changes to M for the last two chapters. Complete!
1. Objects in Motion

***Additional note: Chapters one through four are T-rated, chapters five and 6 are M***

**A/N: Hello! Been a while, sorry for that. Been busy. ;) This is one of two short pieces I started ages ago. It's going to be two chapters, so there's a nice cliffy! I'm planning on continuing "Devil in the Garden" soon, but I wanted to write some nice in between thingies first - to get back in the saddle, so to speak! A million times thanks to the wonderful T'Kirr for beta-ing. Babe, without you this would merely be a sad collection of words sitting in a dusty corner of my computer! x :-)**

* * *

><p><strong>Momentum and Impulse Connection<strong>

As Rose recalled later, everything started out quite ordinary.

No running. No saving worlds.

The Doctor lay on his back on the sofa, shoeless feet propped up on one of the armrests; glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, a book in his hands. Next to the sofa was a whole stack of books with a plate of cream-cakes precariously balanced on top; every now and then the Doctor's hand would trail down to the plate, searching for another treat, his eyes never leaving the pages.

Rose glanced over the top of her own book for what seemed like the millionth time, irritation growing and concentration crumbling like the Doctor's snacks. He kept making noises. Little snorts of laughter and other echoes of approval, before noisily flipping another page and sighing over whatever he was reading about. He was so engrossed, he hadn't even noticed her coming in earlier. Sitting in her comfy chair opposite the sofa, she watched as his eyes roved the pages, like a ravenous man bent on devouring each word.

She noticed there was only one cake left on the plate. Not that she had any desire for it, but it was sitting there by itself, all plump and sugary. On cue, the Doctor reached down and picked it up, letting it hover in front of his mouth for a moment before sinking his sharp white teeth into the soft, creamy cake. Rose gawked. This wasn't fair. Nothing that _innocent _should make her feel the way she did. She ducked back behind her book, intent on ignoring any thoughts of cakes or mouths or lips, or anything involving a certain type of fantasy really. Not like she wasn't used to doing that anyway, she thought huffily. When she next dared to glance his way, she immediately wished she hadn't. Lord. He'd finished off the cake and was now lazily licking away remnants of the cream, attacking the palm of his hand first before moving his attention higher up, bringing his thumb and index finger to his mouth and carefully swirling that pink tongue of his across each digit, then quickly flicking it over the soft skin in between. Rose watched with near-inhuman restraint as he took his sweet time to finish the task, going back and forth, and… Rose dug her nails in the armrest, suppressing the urge to whimper out loud and instead concentrated on her inner mantra. Just ignore it. Ignore it. _Ignore_… No good. She couldn't tear her eyes away. Finally, apparently satisfied that every last morsel of cake had been taken care of, the Doctor let the offending hand drop to his chest and continued reading in blessed silence. Rose breathed a sigh of intense relief and closed her eyes for a moment. Then he laughed. A perfectly drawn out, high-pitched _giggle_.

Rose's eyes flew open.

"Enough!" she barked.

The Doctor jolted, his book flying nearly a foot in the air before he managed to recover it. He turned to look at Rose, dark-rimmed glasses reflecting his companion's wide-eyed stare. "_What?_" he blurted out.

Rose embarrassedly shuffled her feet. "You… you keep reacting to what you're reading. It's… annoying." _And there should be a law against you handling cream cakes_, she added silently. Tilting her head a little, she attempted to spy the title of the Doctor's book, now face-down on the sofa. "What _are _you reading anyway?"

To Rose's surprise he snatched up the little pocket book and clutched it to his chest tightly, hiding it from view.

"Nothing. Just... stuff," he muttered, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turning a distinct shade of pink.

Rose's mouth fell open. Was… was he _blushing_? He looked so caught out, she almost felt sorry for snapping at him. Then memories of the cake's final moments returned and any remorse evaporated. Finding her curiosity roused instead, she stood and walked over.

Watching her approach, the Doctor leaned back further into the cushions. Looking around the room, his brows knitted together. "Don't you think it's rather stuffy in here... Heating might be off. I'm sweltering," he added casually, and started fanning himself with the book, fixing Rose with a hooded stare, like a big cat contemplating some tiny furry creature.

_He had to be kidding, right? _Rose was about to give a snappy retort when she noticed the beginning of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. She bit her bottom lip and smiled, eyes flicking between the Doctor's grin and the book; oh, if that was how he wanted to play it, he was in for a treat.

She crossed her arms and gave the Doctor an indignant look, before discreetly edging closer to the sofa. "So, you think just because I didn't finish my A-levels I won't understand that alien drivel you're always mucking about with?"

He looked at her dumbfounded.

She took another step.

"Think old Rose is stupid, do ya?" She pointed her chin up in mock-offence. "Mmm?"

The Doctor had been honestly taken off guard, but now he really couldn't help himself. He lifted the book in front of his face and snorted with laughter. "Rose, you're brilliant and I'd never think anything of the sort," he panted, trying hard to regain his composure.

"No I'm not, and yes you would," she retorted, then launched herself at him in one smooth move. The Doctor was quicker though. Before Rose's body inelegantly connected with the cushions, he'd already swung his long legs and rolled off the sofa, accidentally knocking over his book collection in the process, the plate on top crashing to the floor.

Ignoring the mess, the Doctor jumped up and darted away from Rose, wicked grin plastered on his face. "Maybe you should lay off the chocolates for a while. Excess sugar affects reflexes…"

"I'll show you reflexes," Rose hissed, scrambling to her feet.

The Doctor turned to flee, only to stub his toes on the leg of the sofa. He gave a loud yelp and grabbed his foot with one hand, several rather rude-sounding alien exclamations hurtling from his mouth.

At the sight of her decidedly less-then-dignified Time Lord hopping around on one stockinged foot and swearing like a sailor, Rose started giggling.

"Nononono – don't, don't. Rose, stop..." he pleaded.

She actually tried but couldn't hold back laughing, tears beginning to streak down her face.

"Oh, you…" the Doctor growled, then apparently changed his mind. "Want this?" he taunted and waved the book in front of her, kindly reminding his companion that their little game wasn't over yet.

Rose lunged.

The Doctor danced backwards nimbly. "My, Rose, you're a very aggressive young lady, anyone ever tell you that?" He waggled the desired object above their heads, just out of reach, eliciting another squeal of protest from his pursuer.

"Give. Me. _Now_!" She made another frantic grab, losing her balance and nearly crashing into the Doctor's side. He dodged and spun on his heels. Taking advantage of his distraction, Rose deftly snatched the book away from him. "Teach you to hide things from me!" She laughed and swung around, protecting the prize with her body, then shrieked in surprise when a pair of lean arms caught her from behind.

"_Do _you now," came the Doctor's voice from somewhere close behind her left ear, his arms tightly around her waist, pinning her against him.

"Let go!" She struggled a bit to show him she wasn't putting up with this kind of manhandling. Not too much, though; he might believe she was serious. And this was just too good to be true.

Standing so close against him, Rose's rational thoughts began fleeing from her mind in an alarmingly rapid fashion. It felt so good to be near him like this, all snug and warm against his chest. She slowly quieted down, although her rapid breathing and increased heartbeat had to be very noticeable beneath his hands. Also, she was becoming extremely aware that all that was separating those hands from her bare skin was a thin layer of cotton shirt. They were always pushing the boundaries of their friendship, he a little bit more than she to be honest, and she wasn't always sure what that meant. Continuing like this, she was sure that whatever she was feeling now would become very recognizable to him very quickly. She felt his grip relax a little. _Did he expect her to step away? _Much to her surprise, he lay one hand on her shoulder and with the other brushed aside her hair in a strangely seductive move. His fingers ghosting over the back of her neck caused hot and cold shivers to run down her spine and she swallowed heavily. It was beyond tempting to just turn around and kiss him for all she was worth. They stood there for several long moments in the silent room. Not speaking, not moving.

"Rose…" The Doctor's voice was no more than a low whisper.

"Mmm?"

"Can I please have my book back?"

Rose gasped, then whirled around and without a word shoved the book into his hands.

Avoiding his eyes, she started gathering up the other books scattered across the floor, putting them on the table one by one, while the Doctor stood alone in the middle of the room, watching her in profound silence. She could feel his stare at the back of her neck and made an effort to block it from her mind – acute embarrassment and anger dominating her conscious thought. How could she have been so stupid, thinking anything might change through one silly game?

She picked up another book and slammed it down on the table. Harder this time.

Another game. Like the Dungaree-skirt incident after they got back from Scotland. She felt her face flush at the memory. Or the time on that water planet – what was it called? Argo something? She remembered what happened all too clearly. Everything lovely. The Doctor flirting with her shamelessly, her playing along. Him suddenly panicking, causing them both to end up face down in some muddy bog. Getting pulled out by a passing hunting party, only having to escape and leg it back to the TARDIS within the hour because said hunting party turned out to be slave traders who wanted to sell her at the local market, wearing nothing but a necklace and a loincloth. And was that her fault? No. Come to think of it, what did she ever do to deserve being the object of every damn red, green or blue-blooded alien's lusty thoughts, except the _right_ damn alien? Okay, technically from his point of view _she _was the alien, but that didn't give him the right to play hot-and-cold with her now, did it?

Behind her, she heard the squeak of the Doctor's trainers as he moved towards the door. Sneaking off, was he? Well, let him, she thought indignantly. She unceremoniously plunked herself down on the carpet and started fidgeting with a lock of hair. Right now she didn't give a crap about being brave or clever, or even mature. She wanted to cry.

Two whole bloody years. Frankly, Rose wasn't the sort of girl to pine after a man – she certainly wasn't going to push her affections where they weren't welcome. But wasn't that the bloody problem? He always acted like he wanted more, but when push came to shove he chickened out – provided he had ever been aware of her like that in the first place. The thought sobered her up for a moment. Could a nine-hundred year old really be unaware of such feelings? What if everything they did together, the hugging, the flirting, the game-playing, was just that? - _innocent_? Of course, it wasn't the first time this particular line of thought had crossed her mind. Two years was very long, even travelling in a ship that defied time itself. The soft hum of the TARDIS had become comforting over the years, and now sometimes she couldn't even sleep without its presence. On darker nights when other things kept her from falling asleep she often sought out the Doctor, usually tinkering away on one of his eternal projects. They would talk and then... nothing. She sighed. The uncertainty felt much worse than simply being rejected. She could handle romantic rejection. Damned if she would let a single unrequited _crush _ruin her chance to see the countless wonders that were still out there, waiting to be discovered. Places to go, people to see. All that.

Pushing up from the floor, she slumped right down on the sofa and grabbed a cushion, digging her face in it and pulling her knees up beneath her chin. Thoughts of chips crossed her mind.

So they would continue on in the TARDIS while she grew older, and older, and one day she'd look in the mirror and see some ancient, haggard face staring back at her, and people would start asking the Doctor if she was his Gran. And then he'd take another good look at her and suddenly realize he'd forgotten to replace her when she was still fresh. And she would have spent her whole life travelling from planet to planet seeing the most amazing things, having saved a billion alien species from annihilation, and still feel like a child at heart; bawling because she wasn't allowed to have the one thing she wanted. The one thing in the universe she desired above all else.

_No._

The word just slammed into her head like a truck hitting a wall.

The cushion dropped to the floor as she sat up with a jolt. The realization was almost luminescent in its clarity. She gripped the side of the sofa and dug her nails in. To hell with the uncertainty, the misery and the heartache. She was Rose Tyler, and if there was one thing she'd learned in the past two years, it was that she could manage her own destiny. Even if the Doctor didn't want her and was too kind or cowardly to admit it, she still had a right to know. She deserved more than to be defined by another's fear or doubt. Even if that other was brilliant and wonderful and... At the very least she could tell him it didn't matter. That she wasn't going anywhere and they could move past all this oblique behaviour. Maybe it would even be a relief to him knowing his friendship was enough for her.

She got up slowly and took two steps in the direction of the library door. Walking felt odd and seemed to take forever, but the next two steps were easier and the ones after that took her straight to the console room, as if she knew he was in there without a shadow of a doubt. There was one other thing she was sure of. Whatever happened, after tonight everything would be different.


	2. Entanglement

**A/N: Hi there, I'm back! And proud to announce I will be posting a new chapter of this story every week or so, starting today. Five chapters all in all. I've bettered my life and have started writing drafts first. Isn't that wonderful? ;-) Everything has turned out a little bit darker than initialy planned, but no pain, no gain, eh? Enjoy! (Oh, and the final chapter might change to M-rating. Objections? Suggestions? Let me know!)**

* * *

><p><em>Whatever happened, after tonight everything would be different.<em>

Well, that thought had certainly been prophetic.

It was different all right, and the evening wasn't even done yet. Rose grumbled and worked to free the heel of her left trainer from a soggy patch of grassland. It pulled free with a wet plop. She didn't exactly know where they were, but the humidity was overwhelming and the amount of water that had come down recently must have been huge, as it had saturated the ground. Hence the muddy feet. The Doctor was walking a little ahead, hands in pockets, his coat billowing in the warm breeze. Rose jogged to catch up, carefully avoiding other suspicious looking pieces of wet ground. She had to admit, though, despite the bad soil, the scenery was absolutely stunning. They were surrounded by a gorgeous landscape of rolling hills, watched over by a deep azure sky that was streaked through with red from two suns, one of them about to dip behind the horizon. It was breathtaking.

Half an hour earlier, Rose had come to the firm conclusion she wasn't put off easily. Mentally cataloguing her past exploits, she'd been filled with confidence. Back home she had yet to find a roller coaster ride that could scare her beyond mere thrills. Visiting new worlds with the Doctor was intensely exiting. Menacing aliens? Piece of cake. Werewolves? Okay, more or less terrifying. But still, absolutely _nothing _compared to walking into a room intent on spilling ones romantic feelings. Definitely the most nerve wracking experience ever.

And so, by the time she'd reached the console room her resolve had all but melted away. In its place remained a tenacious sense of self-doubt. After all, the Doctor had walked away from her and now she was about to disclose some of her most intimate thoughts and set herself up for humiliation – possibly even ending a close friendship. She failed to see the idea's earlier appeal.

She'd barely stepped across the threshold, let alone had the opportunity to talk to the Doctor, before he'd catapulted her into a full-on ramble. Something about a man called Roger and chickens. Rose had listened with only moderate attention. Instead, she'd taken to studying the Doctor in his natural environment. Bit like a wildlife documentary, where the subject of scrutiny was behaving as they would when they were aware of being watched but pretended not to. Strutting about, meaning to impress, but still guarded underneath. Judging by the way the Doctor shot around the console room, he had something planned. With barely controlled excitement he'd directed the TARDIS to their mystery location, all the while babbling away. Halfway through the second lecture, Rose had begun to lose patience. "Sorry, is this going somewhere?" she'd said, a little snippy maybe.

A grin had spread across the Doctor's face. "Oh, we're definitely heading somewhere." He'd raised his eyebrows and put a hand on the nearest lever. "Question is – will you like it?" He'd slammed down the lever and the TARDIS shuddered into submission.

The actual landing had been quieter and more controlled than Rose was accustomed to, and it had almost felt like the TARDIS itself was being careful and somewhat reluctant about their latest destination. The Doctor didn't seem to have any reservations at all and grabbed her hand, leading her to the double doors. She had just managed to snatch her jacket from a nearby strut.

The second they'd stepped beyond the TARDIS doors, Rose had an instant feeling of familiarity, but she couldn't put a finger on it. The Doctor had refused to disclose anything, merely smiling mysteriously.

So now here they were, halfway up a hill in the middle of who-knew-where.

After another fifteen minutes of blindly trudging in the same direction, the Doctor hadn't spoken more than two words yet. This was unusual in itself, and by now Rose was becoming a little anxious. "Where're you takin' us?" she asked again.

The Doctor turned around and stretched his hand out. She took it and he hauled her further up the hill. "Nearly there. Sorry for the walk, but we couldn't risk the TARDIS being too near."

They reached the top of the hill and in front of them the landscape fell away. A few hundred feet to their right, at the end of a dirt track – anything resembling a path had long since disappeared – stood a small wooden cabin representing the only man-made object Rose had seen so far. Everything else was just grass and woods. On the other side of the hill was a sudden drop which made it possible to see down onto another path below. The Doctor sat down on the far side of the dirt track, his back against a large tree. Rose sensed she should do the same and, without speaking, settled down beside him. The Doctor stared down the ledge, anticipation written all over his face. Rose followed his gaze and within a minute she could hear the sound of voices coming nearer. And then she remembered why this world was so familiar. They _had _been here before, just after the Doctor's regeneration a little under a year ago, although it seemed closer to a million years now.

The voices became louder and to her amazement Rose saw a younger version of herself and the Doctor turn onto the path. At the sight of themselves the Doctor shifted next to her and squeezed her hand, reminding her to be quiet. So they watched in silence as the Other Doctor spread out his long coat and their counterparts sat down on the grass below them. They laughed, and although Rose couldn't make out what they were saying, she remembered the words. They were very close together, knees touching and hands linked between them in what had been a moment of happiness. Looking at herself, Rose again felt the closeness and the comfort of it. The Other Doctor's arm had sneaked across her shoulders and Younger Rose leaned into him and put her head on his shoulder. He absentmindedly began stroking her hair, and with a pang Rose remembered her reaction to this intimate act. Other Doctor threw his companion a long look that she couldn't have remembered because she'd had her eyes closed at the moment. Something in her mind stirred and for a moment she imagined that she could actually sense what that Doctor was feeling right there. So much affection. A small amount of conflict and an overwhelming sense of happiness...and _revelation_? But that wasn't possible, was it?

Other Doctor continued stroking her hair. By now, the emotional barrage had become so strong that Rose was almost swept up by the urge to stretch out her hands and run down the hill. Then she felt the Doctor, _her _Doctor, tug at her arm, and she dragged her eyes away from the scene in the valley to face him. He mouthed something, his eyes dark and surprised. She turned back to look at the two people below. They were breaking up now and preparing to return to the TARDIS. As they moved away the wave of past-feelings began to scatter and became less coherent. Only when their past selves were well out of earshot did Rose let out a deep sigh.

The warm air played around them, picking up slowly, making the darkening trees around them rustle in response to their presence. Rose took the Doctor's hand in hers, eyes silently questioning him, almost completely aware of every passing second. He met her gaze and it became impossible to look away.

"I think I felt it," Rose said, barely audible.

She could see thoughts racing through the Doctor's mind, words getting stuck in his throat before he was able to utter them. Finally he swallowed hard and his rationality seemed to take control again. The hand holding hers tightened a little, before he let it drop to her lap. Whatever had been there had snapped shut again. Rose almost ached at the loss of his touch and wished she could share his emotions now, like before.

"Probably some back-ripple you felt. Maybe because of there being two sets of us here. No harm in it, though." He sounded faintly sad.

The moment was broken when Rose felt a cold wet drop land on her arm. Then another, and within seconds a torrent was unleashed. She squealed as the icy, heavy rain pelted down. The Doctor jumped to his feet and grabbed her hand, dragging her behind him towards the overlook cabin.

They ran inside and he slammed the door shut behind them. "Blimey, that wasn't supposed to happen." The sound of the rain coming down on the roof almost drowned out his voice. Shards of lightning illuminated the cabin with blue and white streaks and in the distance there was the telltale rumble of thunder.

Fortunately they hadn't become completely soaked, but still enough to be thoroughly cold and uncomfortable, and with the arrival of the night and the rain, the tropical temperatures had dropped spectacularly. She wiped the wet hair from her face and shivered, her teeth beginning to chatter uncontrollably. The Doctor searched the room, but only found a couple of horse-blankets stacked in a cupboard against the back wall. He dragged them out.

"Maybe we should've made a run for the TARDIS instead of this," Rose said, even though she knew that would have been impossible.

The Doctor didn't answer but kept rummaging through the cupboard, searching for other useful things, or at least pretending to do so.

Finally, he stood and looked her over. "Take that off," he more or less ordered.

"What?"

"Your jacket. It's soaked. You'll get pneumonia." He grabbed one of the blankets off the floor and handed it to her. "Here, put this over your shoulders. Get warm."

She started fumbling for the buttons on her jacket, but her fingers were too cold to get a good grip and she was shaking heavily. The Doctor watched her, and she grew uncomfortable under his intense scrutiny. He muttered something, then gently pulled her hands away from the buttons to undo them himself. Rose was too cold and tired to feel the embarrassment of having to be undressed, so she let him. Luckily, the t-shirt underneath her jacket was still virtually dry, and when she pulled the blanket over her shoulders, she started warming up quickly.

The Doctor hung their dripping coats over one of the rafters and picked up the last blanket. Then, considering for a moment, he unfolded it and spread it on the ground so they could both sit on it. He made no attempts to protect himself from the cold and Rose saw a taut shiver run through him. He was always hopeless when he tried to hide anything from her and his poor attempts at punishing himself for some imaginary slight annoyed and hurt her at the same time. She shifted closer and draped the other end of the blanket over the Doctor's slim shoulders, drawing him closer. Telling him she'd become used to a life of unpredictability wasn't going to change the dark tightness of his body language, but she was glad when he at least stopped shivering.

"I'm sorry," the Doctor said, breaking the heavy silence.

Rose peeked at him over the edge of their shared blanket. "Well, not really your fault, is it?" She looked at the wooden floor and frowned. "The accommodation here's awful. There's no room service, and frankly, this mattress feels appalling."

The Doctor let out the smallest of laughs. "At least the shower is working properly," he glanced up at the roof where the rain was still coming down in buckets.

"When we get back home, maybe we should register a complaint," Rose said.

"Can't. Haven't got the address."

"Pity." Rose sniffed and leaned against the Doctor's shoulder, unconsciously mirroring her past self. "I'm glad you're here."

He didn't answer back.

She closed her eyes and let her thoughts drift back to what had happened before. By now, she was convinced that it hadn't been her imagination. The experience had been far too vivid for that. Remembering the wave of affection she'd felt from the Other Doctor, she found it hard to rhyme that with their current situation. What had he expected from this trip? What was she supposed to make of his emotional restraint? After everything, she still hadn't had the chance to talk to him properly. Maybe tomorrow. When he would be himself again. If she could still summon the courage then.

So they huddled together while outside the storm raged on, baptizing their little shelter in a flood of water. Eventually Rose began to drift off into sleep. She never noticed how, beneath the blanket, the Doctor slipped his arm around her and placed a soft kiss to the crown of her head. After that, he stared into the darkness for a long time, before finally allowing his eyes to fall shut.

-:-

It was several hours later when Rose woke. The storm had passed in the night and outside everything was eerily quiet. She stretched her painfully stiff muscles and lay back for a moment, taking in her surroundings. Bright sunlight was pouring in through the dirty window, creating shapeless patches of light and dust on the floor. Wooden boards. Rough blankets. All of a sudden Rose remembered the strange events from the evening before and her chest tightened. She pushed herself upright and looked around. There was no sign of the Doctor anywhere. Glancing up, she noticed his coat was gone too and her pulse sped up. _He wouldn't. __She didn't even know where she was. _To her immense relief, the answer to her worries came only seconds later, in the form of a high-pitched whining noise. She scrambled up and grabbed her jacket from the rafters. Yanking open the door, she ran outside, just in time to see the TARDIS materialize on the dirt trail, several feet away. As the whining died down, Rose expected the Doctor to appear. Any moment, he would stick his head through those doors and smile, calling her over – and they would be like they used to be. But to her disappointment the doors remained stubbornly closed. She waited. Nothing happened.

She tentatively made her way towards the TARDIS and stepped inside. Quietly closing the door behind her, she leaned back against the wood. Her insides twisted a little when she spotted the Doctor standing near the console. He appeared to be engrossed in some task or other, but she could immediately tell his heart wasn't in it. Usually anything to do with the TARDIS gave him an aura of happiness and relaxation, almost like a really exclusive form of occupational therapy. Now he merely looked glum and bored, flicking switches and idly tapping the computer keyboard with one finger. She felt the impulse to simply run over and throw her arms around him. Surely he would welcome her hug and mumble something nonsensical into her hair. A form of apology she would accept silently, knowing that telling him there was nothing to be sorry for was useless. She waited for her legs to move. Nothing happened.

Rose deliberately shuffled her foot on the grating to announce her presence. Finally, the Doctor looked up and gave a weak smile.

**"**Hello," he said.

**"**Hello."

They stared at each other for a moment, before the Doctor quickly averted his gaze.

Rose frowned. So he was going to ignore what happened before. Not a wholly unexpected reaction. Sadly though, the ball was back in her court now. Maybe the straight approach would work. "I think we need to talk." Rose cringed at how _domestic _that sounded.

In response, the Doctor seemed to switch gears instantly. He produced a wide-eyed innocent face that would have made any preschooler weep in envy. "But Rose, we always talk! In fact, we're doing it right now. Isn't that marvellous!" His voice rose in pitch to match the get-set-go-manic grin. "I'm very good at talking. Remember that time on Grobble Four? I told you there was something funny about a man who-"

**"**Doctor, I'm being serious."

The happy face fell.

**"**Well, if you insist on being boring. Be my guest. Just…" He scrunched up his brow and waved his fingers at her in a shooing motion, "…you know. Somewhere else?"

Rose stood her ground. Being treated like a housemaid wasn't what made her more engaging to the world. "What the _hell _is wrong with you?" she snapped.

**"**I'm perfectly alright, but thanks for your concern. Now, if you don't mind." He turned back to the console and continued whatever it was that he'd being doing before.

**"**Fine," she said sharply, straining to keep the hurt from her voice. "Be like that. See if I care."

She plunked herself down on the jump seat, refusing to be chased off by any rude alien, let alone _him_. The Doctor had turned his back on her, but she could tell by the hunch of his shoulders he was only feigning disinterest. He was her _friend_, and now for some inexplicable reason, he was hurting them both. To counteract her emotions, she started tapping one foot against the metal grate in a rhythmic tick-tap-tick-tap. After a few more minutes of being silently and persistently ignored, Rose briefly considered walking over and stripping off right there. That would snap him out of his mood - or she could end up signing her own letter of resignation. _Marching orders. The boot. Goodbye. Fancy working in a chip shop, Rose? _Not a very enticing prospect. Anyway, she'd tried the stripping on him once before. Hadn't worked.

It was then that Rose spotted the book they'd been play-fighting over the previous evening. After all the Doctor's efforts to keep it from her, the silly thing was just lying there on the other side of the jump seat. She figured that since he seemed bent on ignoring her, she might as well have a peek. See what had been worth the fuss. Without glancing at the cover, she picked it up and flipped to a random page. Her attention was immediately drawn to a particular section. It wasn't one of the rare old books from the TARDIS library, or one of those half-translated something alien-English ones. "Hold on…" Rose turned the book over again and her mouth fell open. She pointed at the cover. "This is…" The Doctor moved suddenly very fast, appearing from out of nowhere. Before Rose could protest, he'd grabbed the book from her hands and walked off. She'd seen more than enough, though.

**"**That's from my room!" she squeaked. "When were you in my room?"

**"**Ehm, it's my TARDIS, so technically it's also my room. And I'm always in your room." He looked up, suddenly flustered. "I mean… Why… I'm… Well, never mind."

Rose looked down at the grating, not sure if she should be angry or embarrassed. This wasn't working out the way she'd imagined. Stupid bloody book. It wasn't even her favourite reading. She'd only snatched it from her mother's stash before leaving home last time round. Didn't even know why, really. Maybe it had something to do with the drawing on the cover - a tall dark-haired figure, slightly too muscular perhaps, but from a certain angle she could just imagine… Half-remembered fragments from the story popped unbidden into her head. Recalling the non-to-subtle contents, she blushed. And this was what the Doctor had chosen to pilfer from her room? Her mortification gave way to a spontaneous fit of giggles.

**"**Doctor, seriously? You like that sort of reading?" Rose said, voice dripping with disbelief.

He reacted as if stung. "Yes. _No! _It's research..."**  
><strong>  
>She jumped from the seat and began circling the console. To her satisfaction, she noticed she now had the Doctor's undivided attention as he held an eye on her and mirrored her movements, deliberately keeping the console between them. It was like that time right before they'd ended up in Scotland. Only without the groovy soundtrack.<p>

The Doctor came to a stop and glared at her over the console. "Rose Tyler, I do _not_, I repeat, do _not _read 'romantic' literature for recreational purposes. I was merely trying to understand the human fascination with such..._pointless _activities."  
><strong><br>**Rose's eyes widened and so did her grin. "Yeah, you do! You so like it! I always knew there was something of the old romantic about you," she said, laughing. "Wait until I tell Mum. Bet she'll _love _sharing her collection!" She started cackling.

**"**Yes, very funny. Let's all have a good laugh. Okay, done now?"

Oblivious to the tightening of the Doctor's mouth or the conflicting sadness in his eyes, Rose dashed forward, practically skipping a step. "You and Mum could compare favourite characters. I bet yours is the dark brooding Count with the chip on his shoulder, am I right? Right?" Rose hiccuped through her laughter. "And what's your heroine like? Sexy? Making you feel a bit _hot _under the collar? Or maybe she– "

**"–**Rose, stop it," the words came from under his breath.

While vaguely aware she should take heed, Rose continued to ignore the red flags, tightly coiled frustration spurring her on. "Face it, it was inevitable," she said, lowering her voice to a suggestive pitch, still persistently stalking the Doctor's back. "All those lonely nights hanging around the TARDIS, doing god knows what. Time Lord or not, you're still a bloke. You were bound to need something mo– "

Before Rose could finish, the Doctor spun around and came bearing down on her. She gasped and backed up, but he tagged her until she felt the railing and couldn't go any further. The Doctor took two more steps, crossing into her personal space. One hand on the railing, the other ghosting over her side, he looked her over sweetly, a flash of white teeth beneath the grin. With his mouth only inches from hers, she could feel his breath on her lips. "Rose Tyler, always so clever. Pushing all the right buttons. But be careful. One of these days you might get more than you bargained for. Very tricky, expectations. Most of the time they only hide massive disappointments."

Rose swallowed heavily. "And maybe once in all while _someone _should stop acting like a total _prat_." She put two hands to his chest and shoved. Hard. The Doctor staggered back a few paces, surprised look plastered on his face. "Or are you just a coward who thinks bullying is the answer to everything?" she bit back defensively.

He gave a mirthless laugh. "Oh, it takes a brave man to be a real coward. Trust me."

She huffed. "That all you can come up with? The old 'I know better' line? Am I daft? Have I got 'gullible' written in big letters on my forehead?"

He studied her intensely. "Nope. Definitely not. Still lovely. In fact, your face is quite… unique. In more than one way." He abruptly dropped his gaze and stepped back, returning to the console.

Rose looked him over, taking in every inch of evasive Doctor. All those years of living, all that talk, and he still managed to avoid saying anything that truly mattered. Or maybe he'd conditioned himself into it. Rose had discovered a long time ago that the key to understanding him lay in deciphering his complex body language. She had even become quite adept at it. But right now emotions were muddling up her judgement and she felt a massive headache coming on.

**"**Back there," the Doctor suddenly spoke up, "You saw what I needed you to see. Now, if you want to go home…"

Rose drew in a sharp breath. Was he finally showing his colours? Was this the reason for all his circumventing behaviour – he'd finally had enough of her? **  
><strong>**  
><strong>**"**What, work in a shop? Get married, have babies? Why would I want any of that?" She struggled to ignore the hurt that was ripping a hole in her chest.

The Doctor looked away, his face devoid of emotions. "Course you do. Most humans do. There'll come a time you're going to leave this funny old life behind. Meet some decent bloke and settle down. Maybe not now. You're still very young, but soon– "

In a flash, the Doctor's words were drowned out by the deafening roar of multiple sirens going off at once. Taking their cue from the alarms, on the TARDIS console a dozen red and yellow lights screamed into existence. **  
><strong>  
>"What the fu– " Rose crashed to the floor as the TARDIS lurched violently.<p>

The Doctor sprinted towards the other side of the controls and furiously started hitting buttons and turning switches. "–hold on!" he shouted, gripping the console.

Rose groaned and touched her head where it had glanced the edge of the railing. Her vision was blurred with streaks of light, mashed together like wiring. Red, black, grey. "Stop it!" she yelled over the din. "_Doctor!_**" **The streaks of light vanished and now it was as if she were looking through someone else's eyes. Everything had a startling clarity and things she'd never noticed or understood suddenly made sense. The TARDIS was still spinning wildly out of control and the Doctor stood bent over the console, his movements frantic, trying to regain a hold on the situation. Judging by the panicked look in his eyes, he was clearly failing.

**"**Doctor! Don't touch the bloody Failsafe! No reason to kill us both!" Rose scrambled up and pushed the Doctor out of the way, her hands flying over the controls before he could make a peep. "Zenith Relocator," she muttered. "Just change it to a lower setting. Give the Time-Curve Indicator a chance to recover from all that high-density Exesium. Jeez. Zero-gravity Nanopack is blown. You should have replaced those ages ago. _And _you nearly fried the Thermal Buffer. Right, and there was me thinking _I _had fuzz for brains." Rose thumped another dial and the TARDIS instantly stabilized, resuming her course through the vortex with perfect serenity. Rose turned around. The Doctor stood frozen in place, arms limp by his side, mouth hanging open, just staring at her like she had just morphed into a Slitheen. It took her a few seconds more to take in what had happened. The strange double-vision had disappeared and she wondered what in the name of holies a 'zenith relocator' was.

The Doctor recovered his ability to move first and shot forward. He grabbed Rose by her upper-arm and started dragging her along. "Infirmary. Now," he growled.

**"**Woah, hold on a minute." She jerked her arm free. "One little technical glitch and you immediately think _I _had something to do with it?"

Clearly the Doctor wasn't in any mood to argue. "Rose, you're clever, but I'm brilliant. And just now, you grilled me on a subject I'm good at. One I'm _very _good at. And you're not supposed to teach me things I'm _very _good at as if you've being doing them all your life... Something is really wrong. Now shut up and let me run some tests."

He looked at her with an expression she'd never seen before and Rose suddenly felt fear. He was right. She shouldn't have known that. It had felt really odd, like yesterday in the library. Or last night on the hill. As if she just _knew _stuff without ever having heard of it before. She shuddered.

**"**No infirmary. I'm not feeling ill. Just _scan _me or something. Can't you do that?"

**"**Sit down then," he said sharply and gestured towards the jump seat. Nervously, she did as she was told. She watched her feet dangling in the air as the Doctor picked the right setting on the sonic screwdriver and waved it over her a few times. Having done so, he stared at the results for a couple of seconds, then repeated the scan. His brow scrunched up as he prepared for a third run-over. Rose lost her patience.

**"**Doctor, if there's something wrong, please tell me."

He mumbled something unintelligible.

**"**What?"  
><strong><br>**He carefully pocketed the screwdriver. "I said there's nothing wrong with you. Quite the opposite in fact. You've been... well, the right term would be _enhanced_." He spoke the word through clenched teeth, like it was something dirty. "But you might not enjoy this particular improvement."

**"**Stop the cryptic talk, and tell me what's wrong!"

**"**No idea how it happened, but basically, you've become… telepathic."

Rose's eyes widened. "You mean I can read minds? But I can't, can I?"

**"**No, not that particular form of telepathy. Right now, you're just receiving fragments of whatever is directed at you. There's no two-way communication. It's a… half-connection. Maybe that explains why– "

**"–**connection? With what?"

**"**Not _what_."

Rose looked at him questioningly.

**"**It's a telepathic _link_, Rose. Only you're hearing but one side of the conversation."

Rose felt the tips of her ears grow hot. Unconsciously she already understood what he meant, but her mind wasn't ready to acknowledge the full impact of it. "Okay, so with _whom _am I sharing this 'connection'?"

There was an uncomfortable silence before the Doctor glanced up.

**"**Me."


	3. Uncertainty Principle

**A/N: And the next chapter... Where we'll add a bit of pressure and sit back to see what happens. I do feel a bit mean to put them through this, but be honest, they had it coming! Please, keep reviewing, I loved all your comments! Right now I'm really interested in what you think about Rose's reaction to what's happening. And I've decided the ending is _definitely_ going up to M. :-) Also, there might be a sixth chapter. I'm having sooo much fun with this! =)**

* * *

><p>The Doctor watched his friend closely as the truth began to dawn on her.<p>

Rose Tyler's mind linked to his. How in Rassilon's name had that come about? And now of all times. He slumped back against the console and ran a hand through his hair. Rose was looking at him, her lips slightly parted, waiting for him to state even more plainly what they both already knew. He could see the questions in her head tumbling over each other. All the while, in his own mind, he was frantically busy putting up barriers, determined to keep at least a _semblance _of control over what she gleaned from him. So far, all she had stumbled upon were surface-emotions and some technical information. None of it could mean much to her. Yet.

Right now, his own thoughts were all confusion, but he needed to make sure Rose fully grasped the necessity of what he was about to do next. There wasn't much time left. The longer they waited, the more he felt his mental hold slip. It would be like walking a tight rope, though. If anything, it was essential she would never suspect him of having ulterior motives, whatever she thought they might be. He'd struggled with those feelings for too long for them to interfere now - not with so much at stake. Fear squeezed his throat until his breathing became painful and raspy. Would she ever look at him in the same way again? Would he be able to forgive himself for misleading her? He drew in a shaky breath and steeled himself. No point in dwelling. With one mental sweep he pushed everything else aside, focusing his resolve on the task of doing what was best for Rose Tyler. Forget that it would mean purgatory for _him_.

After several long moments of processing the Doctor's words, Rose finally mustered enough courage to speak up. Much of what had gone before was lost, at least for now. She felt no anger or hurt anymore, only amazement. And for a split second she imagined it might even bring what she'd hoped for all along.

She smiled weakly. "If... if I can see your thoughts, isn't that a good thing? For a while you had me thinking some slimy alien was creeping inside my mind. I feel much better knowing it's your thoughts in there." Her words did nothing to change the tense look on the Doctor's face. "So, I can read your mind, but you can't see what's in mine? How does that work anyway, will I get sudden cravings or something? Or be really clever? Oh, we can't play chess anymore. Or we could, but I'd keep winning." She heard herself ramble into the Doctor's copious silence and she didn't like it one bit.

The Doctor had become strikingly calm, his whole demeanour exuding quiet authority. "You don't fully understand what it means, Rose. I told you it's a _half_-connection. That means your ability to receive other people's thoughts will continue to grow. A bond like this is not meant to exist in such a way. The ability's not balanced out. Right now, there's just me. I've got ways to prevent you from seeing everything... Well, _most _things. But as soon as you set foot outside the TARDIS, anyone you encounter will be an open book to you."

Rose felt herself slipping away in some kind of dreamy state. The whole room even swayed a bit, like she'd had too much to drink. All the while, the Doctor's speech was gaining momentum, his eyes dark and penetrating, entirely focused on her. Hazily, she tilted her head to the side a little and watched his irises. They seemed darker somehow. Most of the time what greeted her was an inviting earthy brown, like his hair. Other times, those eyes were like black holes, taking everything and giving nothing back. It was a cliche for sure, but for all she knew a Time Lord's eyes could actually change colour depending on mood.

"Rose! Are you listening to me? Did you hear what I just said?" The Doctor shook her arm.

"Yes," she hissed, the dreamy feeling dissipating like mist.

"Your brain will continue to fill up with information, until it overloads. And there's only one thing I can do. I have to create a second link, so that the connection can be accessed by me and controlled before it fries your mind."

"You make it sound like I'm some sort of computer. Will I still be able to see _your _thoughts afterwards?"

The Doctor's hesitation was nearly imperceptible. "No. In theory it's quite intimate, but I'll make sure it won't be."

"So only temporary, right?"

"Not exactly," he said calmly. Inwardly he cursed. _Why __couldn__'__t __he __just __lie __to __her__?_

Rose frowned. "Permanent? Okay, exactly _how _permanent, Doctor?"

The Doctor looked sideways at the metal grating.

The cold edge of fear began sneaking up her back, changing into a prickly heat as it reached her shoulder blades, making her extremely uncomfortable. "But surely you can think of something. You always do."

"Once the connection is fully established there is no undoing it." He hesitated again. "Well, there is, but severing the link would be very... painful. There's even the possible risk of brain damage." The Doctor flinched. He shouldn't have said that. _This __was __going __too __far__. _Rose was perceptive enough to figure it out, and it wouldn't take her long. He didn't even know if they had enough time left by now. His mental block was slipping under the strain she was putting on it, and that wasn't even something she did consciously. They were both at risk now, and still, he couldn't bring himself to force this change upon her. He shuddered. That would be..._unthinkable_. He shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. Any moment now she'd realise why he was talking so clinically.

Rose rested her sore head in her hands and closed her eyes briefly. All she wanted to do was sleep, not have the Last of the Time Lords poke around in her head, wheedling out thoughts that weren't her own. But she had to know more. In the midst of her own worries she could sense there was a battle going on below the surface. She knew she shouldn't go there. _Mummy __warned __against __touching __the __hot __stove_. But if she reached out, she could almost... An unexpected twinge at the back of her mind caught her off guard. It was like the persistent scrape of metal against metal, and growing louder. A series of images flitted past, like spiders across her vision. Rose opened her eyes and looked at the Doctor. He was watching her in turn with an unnerving glare, almost fearfully. Another image. A beautiful dark-haired woman wearing heavy robes, standing on the edge of what looked like a temple, surrounded by solemn-looking men and women. Tall colonnades and dazzlingly bright sparks of sunlight falling through a stained-glass window, its beauty stunning against the stark orange backdrop. Then a more intimate scene. A bedroom, a canopied bed, its thick curtains drawn back. The image faded out.

"Oh, my God," Rose gasped and clutched her hands to her mouth. She slid down from the jump seat and took a few tentative steps towards the Doctor. "I get it. I understand what this means to you."

The Doctor's glare became softer, bordering on regretful. "You could compare it to your Earth ceremony, but really it's so much more than that. At least it was to my people. Don't worry. There's no need for more than perfunctory touch to establish the connection and I'll put up stronger mental barriers. You won't even know the difference."

"But _you _still would." Rose tried to keep her voice level as the _true _consequences began to sink in. "You'll be stuck with me. In your mind. For as long as I live." Across from her, the Doctor just stood and stared, arms hanging limp by his side, like a little lost boy who'd walked in on a funeral.

Rose shook her head decidedly. "No. I won't let you do it."

The Doctor's pained expression changed to one of consternation. "Rose… "

"No, don't 'Rose' me. I know perfectly well what I'm saying. I've always been honest with you. Now do the same for me. No more games, Doctor. You and I both know that my time with you was going to end anyway."

He opened his mouth to interrupt but she shushed him again.

"Let me finish. You don't seriously believe I like the idea of being _forced _onto you? Just imagine it. Having to see me every single day, knowing you'd rather be rid of me?"

She averted her eyes and swallowed heavily. "I wanted so much that… that I could stay here. With you. Forever, remember? But I know you don't need me. Not like that. And no power in the world is going to change that. I'd rather leave with my dignity intact, thank you very much."

The Doctor huffed in exasperation. "Leave? Who said anything about leaving? Rose, listen carefully. There is no way I can help you if you're on the other side of the bloody universe. And you won't just be able to leave and be fine anyway. However this happened, it's permanent and if I don't act, you'll _die_. You hear me? Dead! And you think I'm going to stand by and let that _happen_?"

Rose was stunned into silence. She shook her head weakly and took a step backwards. The Doctor followed suit, not letting her out of his sight.

"It will take _days__, _Rose. In the end you won't even be able to recognise your own mother anymore. You've got to let me do this. In a day or two it'll be too late and you're going to be in so much pain before…" His voice lost coherency.

Rose pushed futilely at his chest with one hand as she backed up further. "But you don't _want _me. I know it. I saw it! We.. we'd be... married! I'll be in your head, for God's sake! How can I be so _intimate _with someone who doesn't even _want _me there?" She felt tears starting to pool behind her eyes. "Yesterday, back there, I came to tell you, y'know. Have you any idea how hard I've tried? To convince myself that my feelings for you are silly and stupid? Well, guess what, I'm done! You're always making decisions for me, but not this time."

The Doctor felt his body go rigid as anger welled up. How could she say those things? How dare she reprimand _him_? He had died for her once. Given up an entire _existence _for her so she could live out that insignificant flicker of time humans called a life. And now she was telling him it didn't _matter_?

In a unexpected gust of bravery, Rose drew herself up. "This is _my _choice and you'd better respect it. Just take me home."

Something in the Doctor's mind snapped. In two quick strides he was in front of her and had grabbed her wrist. It wasn't the insistent but careful tug towards the infirmary from before. This was much more primal, his fingers digging into her skin.

"What the hell you doing!" she shouted.

"Me? What am _I _doing?" he shot back as he dragged her along the corridor, "I'm taking control, because clearly _you__'__re _incapable of doing so." Each separate word was like a knife-cut, his voice trembling with fury.

"Control!" she barked, and dug her heels in. "Did you hear anything I said? I'm not something you _own_, I'm not the TARDIS. You can't program me into whatever you fancy!"

The Doctor stopped dead in his tracks. He roughly pushed her back against the wall, his face mere inches from hers. The look in his eyes was devastating, his expression alternating between rage and despair, but in the end the despair won out.

"What I want from you is irrelevant. It's not worth your life." He continued his unrelenting stare. "Such a damn stubborn human. Has it ever even occurred to you that you might be wrong?"

"If I'm so wrong, maybe you should explain _why _for once. What exactly am I to you? Something to analyze because you can't make sense of me, the silly human you took along for laughs? Or am I more? Do you even want a friend or just someone to show off to? Tell me what's between us. The truth, Doctor! No more of this insane dancing around each other."

_The __truth__? _His hearts raced and he averted his eyes. The anger had drained from his body, and what remained was sadness beyond words. He carefully released Rose and turned away, leaning sideways to face the opposite wall. He needed a second... just a few more moments. Then he would tell her. He would seal his own destiny, but it didn't matter anymore. Keeping her alive and sane far outweighed all other concerns.

Rose couldn't do anything but take his stony silence for another rejection. Months of pent-up hurt spilling from her lips, she lashed out. "Oh, I see it now. What was I thinking? How can I ever be anything to you? Love a stupid ape, would you? Falling for you… That must have been the dumbest thing I ever did in my life! Rose Tyler from the Estate, in love with the Doctor? What a joke!"

The Doctor snapped up his head in undisguised shock. He'd never heard her say the actual words. His Rose – brave and selfish and brilliant and stubborn – was truly in love with him? His strong Rose, so full of life, who always found a way to keep fighting – and she believed he could never love her back because she was _less _than him? Seeing his lovely girl stand before him, pale and unhappy and pouring her heart out, was near unbearable. "Rose, you're the best thing that ever happened to me. Don't… don't ever think I look down on you."

Faced with the cold misery in the Doctor's eyes, Rose felt her heart beginning to break a little. Her vision suddenly blurry, she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Of course I don't, you daft man." She shook her head at him in agitation. "I'm just so furious right now. I'm not even sure _what _I'm saying anymore." Rose was losing sense of time and place and her anger had exhausted itself. "Every day you hold my hand and you flirt and let me share your life. With that stupid grin on your face. And I love that grin, Doctor. I love everything. The TARDIS, our home. Our life. What you've given me. Your old face. And the new one. I lo…" she nearly choked. "I love you."

The Doctor stared at Rose, her eyes burning into his. He had to look away. _It __wasn__'__t __fair__. _When he spoke, his throat felt like it had been stuffed with hot ash. "I tried telling you. But you're so pigheaded, you never listen, Rose. I can't be the one to take away your chances of having a life and a family. I _can__'__t_. You shouldn't end up like me. I'm not suitable for loving, I..." He was teetering on the edge and he knew it. Any second now, one of them would break and it would all be over. The last piece of what they had together winking out of existence. Glancing up, he saw Rose hadn't budged, a fierce determination etched on her face. _Why __was __she __still __there__? __She __should __be __running __from __him __as __fast __as __possible__. _Time was ticking away and his resolve was crumbling with it. Right there, he could end the hurt. Or create new levels of it. His choice. Just three steps. Three measly steps. A whole Universe.

"Oh, Rose... You have no idea what you're taking on." He stumbled through his words. "All the things I can't give you. Everything I am _not_. I'm not an angel. Or a god. I'm..."

There was only the most imperceptible movement of her lips. "I know."

"And you still want me?" He sounded incredulous.

A beat.

"Yeah."

The Doctor swallowed thickly.

Rose stood perfectly still, refusing to break eye contact. Then she stretched out her hand to him and wiggled her fingers.

Next thing Rose knew, her vision was filled with brown and pinstripes as the Doctor grappled her against him, strong arms clutching her tight. She followed in a heartbeat, embracing him with equal fierceness, all strength suddenly flowing into her limbs. Her mind reeled as they clung on to each other for dear life and the Doctor's fingers dug into her back so acutely, Rose suspected she could easily disappear into him and not notice.

They hung on for an eternity, but when the Doctor finally spoke, it was in the most fragile of tones. "I'd do anything for you, Rose. _Anything_, but not... Don't make me say the words. Please. Words have power and I'm not ready. I..." The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut and silently pleaded for her acceptance.

Rose nodded mutely into his shoulder, unwilling to utter even the simplest of sounds that might shatter their connection.

Equally dumbstruck, the Doctor used one hand to caress her hair and with the other squeezed her close again. Rose didn't want to move, didn't want _this _to end. Then, somewhere between their tightly compressed bodies, she felt the mood begin to shift, the urgency of holding each other giving way to an even greater need. She could sense it in the way he held himself against her, completely aware of all the new and intimate places their bodies were touching. At the back of her mind Rose began to feel a warm glowing sensation that quickly spread throughout her, like liquid fire. In seconds, their mutual love and friendship was being transformed into a physical wave of desire.

The Doctor twisted his head until his mouth was just below her ear, his hot breath causing the tiny hairs at the back of her neck to ruffle. Rose inhaled his scent like it was her first and last chance in a lifetime of waiting. Only the smallest of movements was necessary to bring their faces closer still. The Doctor exhaled and Rose breathed him in. He was everywhere. She was everything. _It __was __too __much__._

In one bright surge, her consciousness was invaded by countless unfamiliar ideas and images. From every corner they formed an impenetrable shield that threatened to crush her. She tried to fight back, warding off the weight that was being stacked on top of her, but it continued to come and soon she was hopelessly suffocating beneath the combined mass of time and memory itself. The solid surface beneath her disappeared and she fell through into dark nothingness. She had a vague sense of being caught mid-fall, of a voice calling out her name. She blacked out.

-:-

_Rose dreamed. Or maybe it was a memory disguised as a dream._

_It was night time and she walked barefoot along the TARDIS corridors, going from one dark room to another without aim, like a sleepwalker. Until she came across a light burning in the kitchen and woke up in her own dream. There was the Doctor sitting cross-legged on the wooden dining table. She stood silently, toes growing cold. With his back half-turned towards her, the Doctor remained completely oblivious to her presence. His brow scrunched up, glasses resting on the tip of his nose and eyes focused on the little piece of paper in his hands, his nimble fingers twitching as he folded it time and time again, pulling one corner and dipping back another. Rose watched in fascination as a slow grin spread across his face and he lovingly placed the paper miniature bird next to him on the table, a mate to the several dozen brightly-coloured ones already there._

_And that's it._

_The moment she knows._

_Right there, in the middle of the night, standing barefoot on the cold metal floor, watching her Doctor create paper creatures, she knows she's in love with him. Completely._

_The memory part of the dream flows effortlessly into the more wistful waters of fantasy. In this fantasy, the Doctor looks up and smiles gently before stretching his legs and gracefully descending from the table. In this fantasy there is no fear of rejection, no mind-numbing battle of wills. Only hands and softness and kisses as he takes her against him. Warm bodies, the rustle of clothes and the feel of lips against tender skin. Sighs of pleasure at the overwhelming simplicity of it all. Freedom of complexity. _

_It's only a dream of course. Nothing to do with real life – like travelling across the stars in a blue box. Why did even her dreams feel the need to point this out?_

When Rose came to, she was lying somewhere. Some place with sheets. No dreaming.

The darkness was different this time round. There was light but she couldn't see. Only shapes.

_"__Rose__?_**"**

Footsteps moved around the bed and the mattress dipped slightly as someone sat down next to her. "Hello." Cool fingers grazed her cheek. She gingerly touched her forehead and groaned. Her head felt at least twice its normal size.

She tried to sit up but a silver-sharp pain pierced through her and made the shadowy world spin. "No, don't," a voice protested. "Careful. Don't get up too quickly." Gentle hands on her shoulders made her lie down again. She winced. Even the soft pillow felt like solid rock, but she had no energy to care. It was so much easier lying still.

"Don't try to move too much yet. Just listen. It's alright." Hands brushed matted hair back from her forehead. "I've put up a temporary block. It's all I could do, and it's only a patch. It won't prevent things from happening eventually, but you're safe for now. Lie back and try to rest a little. I'll be right here."

She obeyed the instructions – couldn't even object if she'd wanted to. On feeling the mattress dip again, she experienced a sudden wave of panic. She still couldn't see anything, and the thought of being alone in the dark suddenly frightened her to bits.

"Please, don't go." Her voice sounded hoarse.

There was a stretch of silence, followed by the sound of shoelaces being untied and the rustle of a jacket flung over a chair. Was this still part of the dream? There certainly hadn't been the very real sensation of living breathing _man _snuggling up to her, one arm draped protectively across her waist. Maybe real life was improving on her.

Only moments before sleep claimed her, Rose realised with a shock what the Doctor had mentioned about saving her. He must have been in her mind while she was unconscious. So, he could've easily done whatever he needed to do to create the full telepathic bond. But he hadn't. She took that thought with her as the world faded back to black.

-:-

When Rose woke next, she felt disoriented at first. Although the terrible headache had disappeared and everything in her head was right and calm again, she needed to get her bearings. Her vision had restored, so she could tell that she was lying in her own bed. The covers were drawn up to her chin and a quick peek underneath revealed that, apart from her shoes and socks, she was still fully clothed. That was weird. The Doctor must have put her to bed like this. She admired his propriety, if that was what it was. Her lips curved into a smile as she recalled her own fumbling with a pair of pyjamas on Christmas Day. She had discovered it quite difficult to undress and re-dress someone with one's eyes closed. Luckily the Doctor never learned about her taking a sneak-peek. All in the line of duty, of course.

_The __Doctor_. She lifted her head and glanced over her shoulder. He was still there. Very carefully she turned over to face him. Definitely there. And fast asleep. She had never seen him asleep before. At least not the sort of sleep he was luxuriating in now. He looked so peaceful, without any trace of the emotional turmoil they had experienced earlier.

Unable to resist, she gently touched his cheek, stroking the lightly-freckled skin and tracing a line to the slight stubble on his jaw. Her hand stilled. How was it possible she could feel such love for this man? A man would could change his face and still be _him_.

"Don't stop." His eyes remained shut.

"You weren't sleeping," she whispered.

"I was. Just didn't want you to stop." Now he opened his eyes and they were like nothing she'd ever seen before. The same colour, the same intensity, but so very different. Maybe it was only her imagination. She let her fingers resume their exploration of his face, delighting in the certainty that such a desire was no longer forbidden fruit.

"This is nice," he said. "Why didn't we do it before?"

Rose snorted lightly. "Because some of us have 'issues', remember?"

"Oh." He stretched out his arm and stroked the side of her neck. "Maybe I should go away then." And with that, he pulled her closer.

The essence of him filled her senses. If time could have a scent, this had to be it. A bit musky, a hint of autumn. Tea and marmalade. Her Doctor. She wanted to kiss him, but she wasn't entirely sure if that particular privilege had been granted yet.

"Aren't you angry with me?" she asked.

He twisted a little so he could look her straight in the eye. "Are you still angry with _me_?"

"Furious. Can't you tell?" Her smile belied her words.

"You should be. I nearly destroyed your life. Again."

"Still here, though," she said, refusing to let him slip back into self-recrimination. They'd done that part. Her fingers traced the smooth fabric of his shirt. It was slightly crumpled. Beneath it she could feel the reassuring thumb of his double-heartbeat, steady and real. "-and so are _you_," she whispered. "I need you." His arm tightened across her waist.

Slowly, Rose tipped her head backwards and looked up. What she saw took her breath away. His eyes were huge and dark and there was a single penetrating truthfulness to them. She knew suddenly and without a doubt that he had finally dropped the mask and that she was seeing behind, straight into _him_. To be the object of such intense focus in return both frightened and thrilled her, causing shivers of delight and anticipation to run down her spine.

Lifting one hand, the Doctor gently traced a line across her temple until his thumb came to rest on her cheek. He tenderly kissed her forehead. Then the tip of her nose. A featherlight brush against the corner of her mouth, his breath teasing her lips. Rose sensed a small hesitation from him when her hands reached up to the back of his head, but then he quickly captured her mouth with his and she pulled him down on top of her.

The kiss was slow and intense. Unhurriedly savouring every parting and coming together of their lips, Rose let herself be drawn into the new dreamlike reality they were creating.

It was still only a tentative exploration, but at the same time there was the promise of a whole universe to be discovered.

The Doctor strayed from Rose's lips for a moment and dipped his head lower, placing open- mouthed kisses to the side of her jaw and her neck, down to the well of her throat. She tilted her head back to allow him better access and he nipped lightly. Tasting her like that felt so good. He just had to do it again. Rose sucked in a sharp breath and pulled him back up, quickly connecting her mouth to his again. The Doctor leaned in and put a little extra pressure on her lips, eliciting an urgent moan. She kissed back. Harder. With each stroke of her mouth against his, the Doctor felt himself beginning to fall into her deeper, his sense of Time fading. _How __did __she __do __that__? _Rationality flicked an annoying finger and burst his bubble. With intense regret he realised they had stop _now_, or otherwise he would still lose her.

Finally, exercising a remnant of self control, the Doctor drew back a little, panting heavily. He tried to compose himself, although it was extremely difficult with _her _so eager and willing beneath him. "Rose Tyler, did you mean it? Do you trust me?"

Her eyes opened and cut up to his and she was thrown by the sheer depth of the passion he conveyed through a single look. He had told her about the power of words, but the physical energy between them was driving her beyond the ability to construct vows or pledges of love.

**"**Yes," she whispered at last.

**"**Then will you _please _allow me into your mind so I can save your life?"

She hesitated for a moment before giving a very deliberate answer. "No." Even before the Doctor had a chance to register surprise, she added, "I will let you do this not because you need to _save _my life, but because I want to _share _it with you. You are my Doctor. I want you to know everything. I… I want to be yours."

The Doctor stared into Rose's eyes and for a moment he thought his hearts might just beat their way out of his chest. He fought off the impulse to keep touching her. Right now he could use some mental strengthening himself. If he was going to help her, he needed to focus. Carefully rolling them back onto their sides, he used one hand to take hers, interlacing their fingers, and lifted his other hand to her cheekbone to wipe away a stray lock of hair.

**"**I'm sorry. I...I mean we can't do more of _this _before I've sorted out your mind. But I can't form the link all at once. Your poor brain has had too much to endure. So we'll have to take it slow at first. Is that okay?"

**"**Slow with you is not so bad," she spoke softly. "Either way."

The lazy smile relaxing his face told Rose that, even though a great deal was still going to happen in the next few hours, they were safe for now. The Doctor and Rose Tyler. In space, billions of miles away from anywhere, together in a blue box, in her room, on a bed with pink coverings.


	4. Action to Reaction

**A/N: Right. This is probably as far I can drag it out before you people start chucking things at my head. :P So, two more instalments to go after this one! (But most of the 'action' will be in the next. *wipes cold sweat of forehead*) Enjoy! (And thanks again for the reviews&subscriptions! You guys are wonderful!)**

* * *

><p>The Doctor sat cross-legged on the bed, staring down at Rose's duvet. It really was a truly hideous shade of pink. And she had more than one. If he chucked them out into space she would get upset. Thus, he reasoned, from now on he'd have to make sure she slept in his room. In his bed. He mentally catalogued the other advantages that this could bring, and it turned out there were quite a few of those. Of course, first there still was the small enormously huge matter of their current predicament to resolve - allowing Rose Tyler into that other most private of sanctuaries, his mind. Once there had been others there, but never in the way she would be. There had never been someone like her before. In his mind or outside.<p>

Having Rose Tyler for a bond mate. Or wife? He didn't know what she'd prefer to be called. Probably just Rose. Although 'wife' had a certain enticement to it. That would make him her 'husband'. His. Hers. Some of that appealed to his more possessive, protective side.

The bathroom door opened and Rose emerged, wearing a clean t-shirt and a different pair of jeans. The Doctor beamed at her and she smiled back similarly, although he detected a hint of awkwardness. He'd done his best earlier to convince her there was nothing wrong with her appearance, but she'd insisted on changing, saying she felt dirty from sleeping in her clothes for several hours. Frankly, as far as he was concerned, she could have slept in a dumpster and looked none the worse for wear. He breathed in deeply through his nose and tried to play the part. Reassuring. In control. Definitely not scared witless.

Rose took in the Doctor sitting on her bed as if he'd never belonged anywhere else. There was so much she still had to find out about him. About them, and where this would lead to. While in the bathroom, she'd looked at herself in the mirror and wondered what it was about her that could make a man like the Doctor fall for her. She still looked ordinary, still wasn't transformed into some clever half-alien version of herself. Still aging normally - no magic Fountain of Youth in sight, so far. She hoped that despite her brave words earlier, she could live up to her own promise. Then she'd kicked herself mentally for behaving like a virgin bride on her wedding night. Although admittedly, there was truth to the latter. This had made her grin and chuck her dirty clothes in the hamper with that _little_ bit of extra swing. Rose Tyler vs. the Universe. One-zero.

Rose climbed onto the bed and sat down, also cross-legged, while the Doctor took her left hand in his.

"What will it be like?" Her voice sounded less steady than she'd hoped for.

"Like a walk in the park. Literally. Well, anywhere really. Just imagine me holding your hand and we'll be there." He gave her real-life hand a brief squeeze. "See, I'm doing it already." She snickered and he grinned at her response. The Doctor and Rose Tyler. Together. They had made it happen.

Gazing down at her, blond hair falling across her shoulders, eyes bright and full of trust, she looked so beautiful, so honest, that it reached through into some of the deeper, darker corners of his being. She was definitely more than he deserved in any lifetime. Rassilon, how he ached to share himself with her. Every sinew in his body was tight and tense. Part of it was irrational fear, the other half something that he knew well but hadn't felt in over, oh, centuries? It certainly felt like centuries. But he had asked for her trust, and he wasn't going to shame that trust by acting like a rampaging lunatic. While he suspected some of the more... _pleasurable_ ideas bleeding through his mental control wouldn't be entirely unwelcome if she noticed them, even so, he was glad such thoughts were screened from her at the moment.

"Considering this is your first time, don't try too hard. Simply let me take the lead and let it wash over you. Whenever you feel uncomfortable, say so and we'll stop. I won't push you into anything."

Rose giggled, pink tip of her tongue flicking to the corner of her mouth. "Eh, Doctor, are you aware that sounds an awful lot like... you know?"

"What? Rose, if you're daring enough to seduce me into your bed, you should be able to say one silly little word." Honestly, he just wanted to kiss the words from her lips instead of talking about talking.

"Sex. It sounds like we're discussing having sex."

"And would it be bad if we were? Discussing it, I mean?"

"Of course not, but I'm just not used to talking to you about... _that_. And...well, I'm not even sure yet if..."

The Doctor was amused to see a steady blush creep up her cheeks. He waited patiently for her to continue, but really, he'd seen the question looming a mile off.

Rose bit her lip. "You kiss like heaven. But do you do... _that_?"

"Okay, fair enough," he answered quietly. "I guess I'm not exactly famous for handing out lectures on Time Lord sexuality to everyone I happen to meet."

"Bet it's a great icebreaker at parties, though." She raised one curvy eyebrow and tried to keep a straight face. "But I don't think I'd like it very much if everyone knew how you...work, except me."

"And you're curious?" He smiled wickedly and licked his bottom lip. "What sort of a lover I'd be? If I have all the necessary _parts_? I could ask you that. But then you'd call me rude."

Rose blushed furiously.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Right. Better leave that line of thought for later. Otherwise your mind'll be reduced to jelly before I manage to restrain myself. Again." He gently brushed her cheek, then returned his fingers to her temple and steadied them there.

"Wait a second."

"Oh, what is it _now_?" he groaned.

"You haven't answered my question yet."

He sighed dramatically. Humans and their need for verbal affirmation. "Okay, _yes__!_"

"Yes what, Doctor?"

"_Yes_, I have a libido. _Yes_, I want to make love to you. Badly. Several times over, in fact. Everything I am is yours and everything you want I'll give to you. _Later__._ Are we done now? Can we move on?"

"You're such a romantic."

"I'm old. That's what I am. No spring-chicken, Rose." His voice dropped to a low, suggestive tone. "But I'm no fumbler either." To prove his point, he ducked down and started nuzzling a sweet little spot just below her jaw that he'd had his eye on since she sat down. Or possibly before that. Rose let out a soft throaty mewl which made it far more difficult to deny himself another go. She tasted gorgeous. And the sensual little whimper seemed to have a whole range of variations. He almost cried out himself when she pulled back, breathing heavily, her face flushed. She put a finger on his lips.

"Link. Thing. Time," she murmured. "And I don't care what or _who_ you've done in the past. It's a new you," she said mock-seriously. "New body. Unless you've been seeing people I don't know about." Her eyebrows shot up. "You haven't, have you?"

"I can assure you I most certainly did not," the Doctor ran his tongue along the back of his teeth, fixing Rose with a cat-got-the-canary grin. He did it on purpose, just to see her reaction. "You get first call on me."

"Oh, you'd better keep that promise," Rose said, and smiled before closing her eyes again.

He smirked. Most definitely.

"Okay, what do I do?" She tried to contain her nerves and sound confident.

"Just relax. When you're ready, imagine a curtain lifting. One of those grand-theatre ones with the tassels."

"Not a door or anything?"

The Doctor cocked one eye open. That was a bit of a cheeky remark. He could tease her back, but that meant getting to the good part would take even longer. And he was nervous enough as it was.

"Nah, doors are for beginners. You're advanced. Besides, the door-thing is only useful if the other party actually believes that that works." He wiggled his eyebrows. "If I really wanted to see into someone's mind, do you think the image of a _door_ would stop me?" His lips curved into a smile, but it was a rather predatory one.

"As if you would," Rose stated.

His eyes softened a little, but remained challenging. Rose frowned. Why was he still testing her? He'd asked for her trust and she'd given it. What more could she do? There were still so many questions, but she could feel the clock ticking. No more dawdling.

The Doctor had been right. There was really nothing to it. Except maybe a brief sensation of vertigo, like sitting up too fast. Rose opened her eyes.

Whatever expectations she might have had before, they'd certainly been far removed from this. She was lying flat on her back, knees drawn up a little. A solid blue sky stretched high above and in the distance loomed the outline of tall buildings. She leaned up on one elbow and smiled. For some reason her feet were bare and she could feel the soft tickle of grass between her toes.

"Doctor?" She looked around and felt her stomach flutter. These surroundings weren't exactly threatening, but he'd promised to hold her hand. A movement in the corner of her eye startled her. The Doctor was sitting against a tree, staring at her intently. The obtuse sunlight highlighted the freckles on his pale skin and made him seem more alive than Rose had seen in a good long while. She realised with a shock that maybe for the first time since she had known him, he was truly happy. Actually at peace, even.

"I am," he answered her unvoiced question, "holding your hand. Where we are, in the TARDIS. On your bed." A hint of a smile played across his features. "Can't you feel it?"

"So, this is what it's like to share minds?"

He chuckled lightly. "Oh no, we're only on the threshold. Got a whole world still to discover. No need to hurry, though." He got up and before Rose knew it he'd scooped her up into his arms and was spinning her around, as if in some madcap dance. She threw her arms around his neck and squealed in delight, feeling for all intents and purposes like a child – light and utterly free. The Doctor kept spinning and she began to lose sense of direction. Were you even supposed to get dizzy without a body?

The Doctor stumbled and suddenly they were on the ground, giggling like teenagers, the grass beneath them thick and soft. Rose's laughter stilled. The Doctor looked down at her through half-closed eyelids. He was enjoying this. He shifted his weight and supported himself on one elbow, freeing up some space between them. With his free hand, he traced the pattern on her t-shirt and her stomach muscles twitched involuntarily under his fingers. _Patience__, _he reminded himself. With an audible sigh he drew back his hand and rolled over onto his back.

"Where are we?" Rose said, eager for distraction.

The Doctor scrunched up his nose, and sniffed. "Dunno. Somewhere in our shared consciousness. A place that's important to one or both of us."

"This place looks a bit like New Earth, but without the damn wind."

"What were you thinking of back then?"

Rose flipped on her back. "I might have wanted to snog you. Yeah. I definitely remember something like that."

"Why didn't you?" The Doctor looked almost put out.

"You're kidding, right? We'd only just met again. I wasn't going to throw myself on you at the first opportunity. For all I knew, you would have kicked me off the TARDIS."

"There might have been that possibility," he muttered to the air.

They lay staring up in silence for a while. A white cloud pushed slowly across the blue sky.

"That one looks like a Slitheen, don't you think?" Rose pointed her finger at the cloud.

"Nah, more like a Thresian wildebeast. Well, one with three legs. See? He's missing two. Oowh, that one there," he pointed a little to the right. "Looks like your Mum…"

"Oi!" She jabbed her elbow in his side and giggled.

"Well, she can be a Thresian wildebeast sometimes," he said, earning himself another punch.

The Doctor turned on his side and they lay staring at one another for a long time.

He realised rather suddenly that everything he needed was right here, at the reach of his fingertips. All he had to do was ask. What had ever been so difficult about that? Oh, yeah. He was an idiot.

Next to him, Rose began to chuckle.

"What?" He sounded a bit miffed.

"Nothing, it's just so surreal. You and me, like this? Only hours ago I was imagining myself as some lonely old gran shuffling around in the TARDIS, and now… now you are here, and I can touch you whenever I like. Kiss you." She lowered her eyes to his lips.

The Doctor returned a mischievous grin. "Quite right. And I can do this."

He conjured up a few choice mental images and Rose sucked in a quick breath. "Doctor!"

Her eyes turned huge.

"Just testing your prowess," he said, innocence personified. "Call it a subtle guide."

"That's what you call subtle?"

"Don't blame me. You're the one half-naked. Well, in my mind's mind, mind...something."

"But on my Mum's sofa, of all places?"

"A sofa, Rose. _A_ sofa. So it happens to be in your flat. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. It's just, I never imagined you thinking of me like that." She fingered his shirt-buttons, marveling at how real everything felt, considering none of it existed outside of their heads. Even the Doctor's breathing came out a little uneven. "Do you really think I'm so..."

"–Beautiful?" The Doctor let his eyes fall back to her neck, deciding if he should try another taste test. "Gorgeous?" _Yes__. __Definitely__._ "Completely, utterly seductively mine?" he mumbled between nips and kisses. Somewhere above him, Rose was trying to construct a verbal response. He loved being the cause of her struggle.

She sucked in a breath. "Yeah, I was going for 'limber', but yours is better." His hair was tickling the underside of her jaw. "By the way, not that I particularly hate what you're doing, but shouldn't we be concentrating on our telepathic connection or something?"

He pulled back an inch or two and tried to focus, ending up a bit crossed-eyed. "We _are_. And I haven't forgotten for a nanosecond. You're superb. _And_ limber. School gymnastics team. Won a bronze medal. Right?"

Suddenly the scene around them faded. Gone were the wide skies and the sweet smell of grass.

"Well, this is definitely not one of mine," said the Doctor, looking around the room they were standing in. The walls were a pale yellow and covered in slightly faded posters. All around them were chairs and tables, many of them arranged at somewhat careless angles. A faint odour of old socks and tangerines hung in the air.

As Rose recognised where they were, her blissful mood dissolved. "It's my old classroom," she whispered.

Her eyes flew open and she felt disoriented for a short time. They were back in the TARDIS, sitting together on her pink duvet. The Doctor glanced at her worriedly.

"Who's Jimmy?" he asked.

"Oh. Saw that, did you?"

"Only fragments. I can't see your actual thoughts. That's not possible until our bond is fully formed. Takes a bit of practise. And then only if we choose to. Rose, if you don't want me to see, just-"

"No, 's all right. You can...go there." She sensed the Doctor's mental fingers caress the memory, turning it over, holding it as if it were a delicate crystal ornament. It wasn't merely her memory she handed over, but also her trust, and she felt a surge of love for him at the care he took.

"You left school for a boy?" he sounded faintly puzzled.

"There was more to it than that. I'm not entirely stupid."

The Doctor withdrew his telepathic presence a little to give Rose space. In real life he gripped her hand tighter.

"I had this PE teacher. Mr. Regis." Rose pronounced the name with icy contempt. "Good looking bloke, kinda youngish. Actually, I think I sort of had a crush on him. He was always extra nice. Made me feel I was wonderful, like I could do anything."

The static picture of a man popped unbidden into the Doctor's head. Momentarily startled, he quickly hid away his excitement from Rose. She shouldn't be able to send him images. At least not for quite some time. The realisation made him a bit giddy. What other surprises did she have in store for him once they were properly bonded? With considerable effort he focused back on her story.

"I wasn't doing bad at school. But only the gymnastics went really well. Then one day after class, Regis took me aside and started asking all sorts of questions. Personal things. Like, you know, coming on to me. Told him to his face I might be from the estates, but I wasn't a slag. Next thing, his hands are up my skirt and he's all over me."

The Doctor fixed her with a ridiculously wide eyed stare. "What did you do?"

She shrugged. "See for yourself."

There was the mental image of a remarkably vulnerable-looking teenage Rose, and then her knee connecting with certain parts of Mr. Regis' anatomy.

The Doctor screwed up his face. "Oh. That must have hurt."

"Sure hope it did. The bastard deserved everything he got." She sighed. "I ran off. Didn't tell anyone. Thought that little action might have cooled him down. Stupid, of course. A couple of weeks later I discovered he'd started spreading nasty rumours about me to my classmates and even to the other teachers. It wasn't long before the rest of the school found out what he'd been saying. Well, that was a riot. When Jimmy moved into a place of his own, he told me I should quit school and come live with him. By then school was hell anyway, so I thought why not? I felt so grown-up, having an older boyfriend and our own flat." She shook her head. "God, can't believe how thick I was back then."

"Shouldn't blame yourself. Not you're fault. And you're not a kid anymore."

Rose was silent for a long time.

"Doctor," she spoke up at last.

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm done with this field-trip."

He smiled quietly.

Rose regarded him from underneath thick lashes. "Show me more."

This time the experience was very different from their earlier explorations. As Rose felt the pressure on her mind increase, it also brought a new wave of images. Only not the dark suffocating ones from her nightmare. These were undefined, more like ghosts, or old dreams, already fading from memory before they had a chance to stick. What she did feel were the emotions that came with them. As the Doctor allowed her to share more of himself, Rose felt herself being submerged in warmth, like sinking into a hot bath. It surrounded her and when she let go, she floated out into the open. But it didn't scare her, for she knew she wasn't alone. The most astounding possibilities flowed through her mind and for a single moment it was as if she knew every single atom in the universe by heart. If she were only to reach out, she could touch them. The scene transformed into more recognizable features.

Some images were clearer than others. There were buildings she didn't recognize, faces of people she'd never met, but still they were all strangely familiar, loved and mourned. The images began to merge and she saw herself as a little girl, playing in fields of red grass. Next, she was an adult once more, standing in the same fields, under the same burnt- orange skies. Only now someone was holding her hand, fingers linked tightly. She looked over and the man beside her smiled. He wasn't quite the same man, and it wasn't quite the same smile she was familiar with and loved. Somehow, behind it, he was more than the living, breathing individual she adored. He was everything. As he showed himself to her, she saw every single one of his previous selves and _knew_ that whatever man he had been, or would be, she was loved. Utterly and completely.

By now, he was changing into the man who had taken the Bad Wolf into his heart, only to pay the price. However, there was no regret about his actions, for by doing so, he had recreated himself for her alone - to be the best and the most that her humanity could handle. When Rose looked again, the man at her side had become _him_. Through the silence that surrounded them, she felt herself become incorporeal as unvoiced promises were swapped between them. He had changed for her, and now, somewhere deep inside herself, she was changed too. Had become so much more. Made for each other.

Abruptly, she felt herself being pulled back to the surface of the real world.

Opening his eyes, the Doctor wondered why his face was damp. He swiped at his eyes with the palm of his hand. He shouldn't be crying at a time he'd never been happier. That was absurd. Obviously wanting to alleviate his confusion, Rose reached forward and touched her fingers to his temple. Now she was the one in control. He shied away, reluctant for her to see him like this, but she persisted and wouldn't let him turn from her. The sense of overwhelming joy inside his head reached a crescendo and he had to avert his eyes again. It was too much, too fast. He needed to breathe. He scrambled up and off the bed, losing Rose's touch in the process. She let out a small cry at their rough separation. The Doctor stumbled towards the bedroom door and came to an abrupt halt against it, the palms of his hands flat against the wooden surface. He concentrated on regaining his breath and bringing his heartbeats back to normal. Both his hearts were hammering like he'd run a mile at full speed. _What __was __this__?_ He was a Time Lord, for Rassilon's sake. He didn't do _panic __attacks_.

"Doctor?"

He startled, unaware Rose had come up behind him. He looked at her, feeling more than a bit fazed and bewildered.

She smiled and stepped closer.

He could feel her now, in his head, in his soul even. _She __was __beautiful __there__, __too__._ Her hand snaked up until it reached his lips and she let her fingers play across them lightly, her eyes memorizing every contour of his face, as if she feared everything could be taken from her in an instant.

Recovering from the onslaught of emotion that had overtaken him, the Doctor mirrored Rose's movement and stroked her cheek. The brush of her mind against his felt cool and soothing to the raw burning of his thoughts. Everything was so easy now.

Rose shifted against him, her fingers grazing across his shirt collar and then underneath. Her hands had never strayed this far before. The Doctor's mouth went dry and an untamed urge shredded the soft cotton feeling in his mind. _Why __was __he __still __wearing __a __shirt __anyway__?_

"I seem to recall a promise you made," Rose mumbled, a little husky and short of breath. "If it's alright by you, I'd really like to make lo– "

Her eyes fell shut as he bent forward. In a rush the Doctor pressed his mouth to hers, their lips meeting in a frantic and desperate kiss. Rose's hands flew up to the side of his neck and the Doctor instinctively pressed down harder, feeling her warm mouth open up under his. A surge of undiluted _want_ swept away the Doctor's remaining control and a deep groan issued from the back of his throat. Rose gasped and tightened her hold on his neck as he grabbed the underside of her thighs and in a single move hoisted her up in his arms. With Rose clinging on to him, the Doctor took a few faltering steps and before they had the chance to run out of breath, he had them pressed up against the wall, the gravity-defying angle allowing him to feel her in a whole new intoxicating way.

He drew a frantic breath. "Rose..."

His words were smothered by another soft but fervid assault on his mouth. _Kissing __Rose__. __Being __kissed __by __Rose__. __Kisses __of __Rose__. __Oh__._ He gasped when her fingers raked down his back. He let her legs slip from his grasp and pushed his hips firmly into her, keeping her flush against him while allowing his greedy hands to roam up and down her sides. He could feel the muscles in her lower back stretch and ripple as she arched into him and it send shock-waves of desire through him. With her own hands freed up, Rose started tugging at his shirt-tails and one hand snaked up under the hem of his shirt to caress bare skin. Her mouth curved into a smile against his lips. The Doctor smiled back at her mentally, every other physical part of him far too occupied with this new all-consuming activity. Inwardly though, he made a valiant pledge to them both. Tonight he would make love to _his_ Rose Marion Tyler - and no force in the universe was going to stop them!


	5. Gravitational Force

**A/N: *cough, blush* **Ahem. **My first attempt at writing a fully M-rated chapter. *posts and hides under the bed***

* * *

><p>Of all the fantasies Rose had had over the years, there had been quite a few devoted to what her future might look like. Would it be a life of working in shops, alternated by TV dinners, visits to the pub and every Sunday off? Would she meet someone and fall in love, maybe even start a family? She had always known that was the most likely outcome, despite that she didn't particularly long for it. Her friends, they had been different. Many of them couldn't have been in a greater hurry to grow up and let themselves be swept off their feet by the first bloke who showed an interest. Or the second. Or the fifth.<p>

For a while Rose had stuck to the idea that this was how life was supposed to be. Outwardly she'd settled, but in her head she'd slowly begun to wither. And she might very well have done so, if it hadn't been for a basement, shop-dummies, and a magic blue box. From that moment on, her fantasies had become tangible. Thinking about what her future would be like was replaced by_ living _it. Day after day.

The one problem about traveling through Time and Space in a blue box was that maybe it should have come with a very singular warning. _Don't fall in love with the designated driver._

Loving an alien was a challenge not everyone was suited to take on. But then again, there was that particular type of genius-alien; the type with the exuberance of a six-year-old, the diplomacy of a hurricane, a male model's dress sense, and really, _really _great hair. Those were definitely worth the trouble. And as it happened, Rose was extremely lucky. She had found the only one in existence - and he was completely hers.

Rose would have congratulated herself, if not for the fact that she was rather preoccupied snogging said love of her life. Fortunately, he was going at it with quite some fervor himself. It was remarkable what prolonged sexual tension could do, once released.

The Doctor still had her pinned between himself and the wall, apparently not troubled by Rose's frantic attempts at ridding him of his shirt. Much too occupied with her mouth, he refused to relinquish his hold and groaned when she shoved her hands between their bodies to create space. With a shock the Doctor allowed himself to breathe in for a second and Rose immediately seized the chance to attack his shirt-buttons. Tugging at the unwieldy items, Rose started pulling the shirt over his head without bothering to undo it further, then grumbled in frustration as the action merely revealed more fabric, and not the bare skin she'd obviously expected. "Wow," Rose heaved, "how many layers have you got under there?"

Not bothering to answer that, the Doctor dived straight for her mouth again. Giving in to her magnetic pull, he closed the space between them in an instant. His hips ground into her and Rose moaned, her mind and body more than ready for what was about to take place. The Doctor's hands shifted from her waist up and under her shirt, his palms cool to the touch. In the far corners of her mind, Rose wondered what she must feel like to him, with her skin burning beneath his fingers. The fire spread from her skin to her thoughts - she needed more of him. Her hands dipped below his waist and found a part of him that was definitely less cool to the touch than his hands. The Doctor answered her desire with a little gasp of surprise as she raked her fingers across the front of his trousers. Encouraged by his response, she started fumbling for his waistband, but he suddenly grabbed her hands and stilled them between their bodies. He panted heavily and had trouble catching his breath. "No... Rose, wait..." he stammered.

She didn't take to his hesitation and started kissing his jaw, whispering into his ear. "Don't wanna stop... Need you."

"And I wan- _Oh_!" He nearly mewled as she sucked his earlobe into her mouth and gently nibbled it. _Rassilon, if she kept up, he wasn't going to last two seconds_. He only got her to stop her exquisite torture by taking her hands and pushing them against the wall on either side of her head. Although this vantage point offered a whole _world_ of new temptations, the Doctor managed to curb their rampant desire by shushing into her ear. "Want _you_, but not like this. Not some cheap act against the wall of your bedroom." She muttered back something that may have been agreement, but only just. "You deserve more. And I want_ all _of you," he whispered into her skin.

"Bed," Rose murmured. "Right there." She started them towards it, but he resisted.

"Not good enough." the Doctor took her hand and countered her move, drawing her back in the direction of the door. "Come on. Need to show you something."

Rose sighed in frustration, but reluctantly agreed. Giving in to his whims was usually the fastest way of getting back on track. After two years of waiting, though, he'd better make good, she told herself firmly.

The Doctor lead them away from her room and along several echoing corridors. It was chilly and Rose was secretly glad they hadn't actually gotten as far as undressing yet. When the Doctor halted, it was in front of a very nondescript door that Rose suspected she'd probably passed more than once without a thought. The Doctor smiled in anticipation and twisted the handle open. Rose peered inside and was instantly taken aback. The room wasn't palatial, or exotic, or even modern. It was rather ancient, in fact. And Victorian. For a moment Rose forgot what had been on her mind as she took in the room's interior and recognised it. "It's my bedroom from Torchwood House!" she exclaimed, completely amazed.

The Doctor put his hands on her arms, nudging her forward into the room. He used one foot to shut the door and returned his attention to Rose. Their brief outing into the corridors hadn't dulled his sense of purpose. "I'll explain later." He quickly came up behind her and brushed aside her hair, kissing her neck.

Now it was Rose's turn to hesitate. The room was almost too good to be true. With its dark paneling and heavy furniture, she felt out of place somehow in her modern jeans and t-shirt. To the right, candleholders and all, stood the full-length mirror that she remembered twirling in front of, deciding on which dress to wear for their supper with Queen Victoria. She'd rather not remember much of what happened afterwards, but that had been a happy moment indeed. Next to the mirror, the soft, flickering glow of the candles reflected and spread its luminosity across the red and brown panelling and the bed with its heavy curtains and embroidered sheets.

The Doctor was very insistent on what he was doing to her neck, and Rose had trouble keeping her thoughts straight. "Did you arrange this?" She turned around to look at him. He took the opportunity to frame her face with both hands and kiss her with such ardour she lost track of thought entirely. He was right, explanations could wait.

Hanging on to each other, Rose edged them closer to the ornate four-poster bed, but apparently the Doctor had other intentions. Although it wasn't all that clear yet, she seemed to sense his thoughts - a result of their bonding. His voice seeped into her mind. _Turn around, Rose._ She turned to face the mirror and watched as the Doctor reflected in there wrapped his arms around her waist. Somehow, all the desire they had already tried to express in desperate touches and kisses culminated into one hushed moment of reverence.

It was surreal to see themselves like this. A tall man with his hair sticking up at angles, large dark eyes sparkling with raw emotion; the blond woman in his arms carrying an equally passionate look, with maybe a hint of lushness and tenacity underneath her girlish features. Both looked a little dishevelled.

Even though Rose was still fully dressed, the Doctor's intense stare gave her a feeling of being naked that was strangely sensual. Any other time she would have felt self-conscious under such scrutiny, but the extraordinary amount of love that spilled from his eyes removed any sense of awkwardness. They had always been heading for this and everything was as it should be. Rose felt involuntary laughter begin to bubble up in her throat.

Their eyes met in the mirror and the Doctor raised a single eyebrow, questioning her. She didn't want to spoil the moment, so she translated her happiness into something new, trying to project her own thoughts. _Should I seduce you now?_ The Doctor's look of confusion morphed into a glorious smile._ I think you've already done that_, he spoke inside her head.

Despite his outward calm, the Doctor's hearts pounded beneath his flesh when he moved his hands from Rose's waist to her front, up and over the fabric of her t-shirt. Through the growing power of their link, the Doctor could feel her arousal building, his own sense of need bending to hers, attuning itself. They were feeding off each other's heightened sensitivity, and in all his long years, it was the most intimate, erotic sensation he'd ever experienced. His hands drifted up, questing over her stomach. Feeling her breath quicken encouraged him to move higher, his fingers brushing the underside of her breasts. There were so few barriers left between them now. Soon they would pass the point of no return - no more furtive looks, no more nights of waiting in vain. Searching for her eyes in the mirror, the Doctor caught her gaze which by now was filled with undisguised _want_ - her lips slightly parted and those deep brown eyes swirling with lust and love. He caressed her mind with the sigh of a thought. _Want to see you._

In a dreamy state, Rose raised her arms, allowing the Doctor to lift the hem of her shirt and pull it up over her head. He let it fall to the floor without a second glance, his eyes roving over each newly exposed part of her. He returned his hands to her front and let them begin their delicious track up her body all over again, right to where he'd halted before - and then beyond. Following the line of lace-fabric that was still hiding her from him, he let his thumbs stealthily brush against the peak of each breast, before cupping them in his palms and squeezing gently. At his increased touch, Rose's eyes fluttered shut and her head tipped back against his shoulder. His hands clasped her breasts tighter, slowly massaging them, the rub of skin against fabric creating an incessant friction. She arched into his touch and her breathing sped up, as did his.

As she sensed the Doctor's impatience for her begin to grow, Rose twisted around in his arms so that they could face each other, and urged him to take action in the shirt department. He looked a bit amused at her confidence but complied. Together they wrestled the remaining clothing from his upper-body, until he was completely free of it. Elated that she was finally able to see and touch him properly, Rose slowly ran her fingers over his now very naked chest, taking in every inch of him and committing it to memory; his freckled skin, his slim shoulders, the way his muscles stretched tightly across his ribcage and abdomen, all the way down to the softer part of his belly and the modest line of hair disappearing below his waistband. He seemed so quintessentially human, it was hard to believe he was anything but. The only time she had ever seen him in this state of undress, he'd been unconscious. Now he was very much awake and aware of her, and it caused heat to spread beneath her skin._ See anything you like?_ Rose looked up and smiled at his relaxed jest, but underneath the confidence she could feel his thirst for her acceptance. _I see you, so yes, very much_, she thought back. _Are you really mine?_ she asked in return, and tried to put every ounce of presence in that thought. He looked down in a way that nearly made her heart stop. _Completely. _

Their mouths found each other again in a slow but greedy kiss and their earlier passion ignited with double intensity. They had been waiting for so long, and now that they were bonded Rose could feel all that hidden want, all that repressed desire, as her own. It made her almost dizzy with pleasure, knowing that he'd wanted her for so long. She'd done nothing wrong, only fuelled his need, and now it was all coming to a head.

Rose slipped one hand lower and placed it on his stomach, nudging him towards the bed. This time he didn't stop her. They staggered backwards a few steps, mouths never leaving each other and blinding them to obstacles. The Doctor let himself be pushed on, until he was suddenly caught by the side of the bed and a soft mattress. He dragged Rose down with him and she nearly landed on top of him, but caught her fall on one arm. The Doctor crawled back, further up the bed and Rose followed, not satisfied until he was securely beneath her. She straddled him and he leaned up on his elbows, touching his lips to hers in a long, drawn-out kiss.

He could feel her weight caress him in all the right places and there was such desire in every single one of her touches it nearly drove him over the edge. She made to lean in further, pushing him back against the pillows, but he steadied her and urged her to remain sitting. _Please. _Taking his meaning, she reached behind her back and deftly unclasped that piece of clothing that had figured in so many of his dreams - or rather the absence of it on her.

The Doctor's movements stilled as Rose shrugged the straps off her shoulders and let them slide down her arms far more slowly than necessary, before finally discarding it. He hesitated to breathe, fully appreciating what he was being given, his eyes tracing every rise and dip of her curvy figure; the heightened blood pressure from her arousal flushing her skin a light pink. Oh. His girl was gorgeous. Her yearning for him was by far the most erotic thing he'd ever seen, and he'd seen so much - the cruelty as well as the splendour of the universe; women, their beauty and grace famed across worlds - and most of the time he'd hardly batted an eyelid. And yet, this petite human woman held the power to reduce him to the whimpering fool he was fast becoming. It was nonsensical, and his logic told him to abscond right that instant. Except, he didn't give a toss about running away anymore. In a sudden possessive act of adoration he sat up and gripped Rose against him. Her arms found their way around his neck and she tightened her embrace as he cupped her buttocks and swiftly rolled them over.

"Rassilon, Rose, what have you done to me?" he mumbled against her neck, leaving a trail of kisses. Rose arched into him, her bare breasts pushing against his chest and somewhere in his head sparklers were lit.

She guided his head lower and he couldn't resist a quick nip to her collarbone. Moving down her chest, he deliberately resisted the urge to test his excellent sense of taste. More attention could be lavished there later. Right now he wanted to explore other parts of Rose he'd never seen before.

The rough denim of her jeans scraped his chest as he dipped lower to run his tongue along a particularly delicate piece of flesh just south of her belly-button. A few well-placed kisses there were enough to draw a long whimper from her. Her hands flew up and tangled in his hair, urging him on. He smiled against her belly and repeated the action, lazily sliding the tip of his tongue in a circular pattern across the tender skin. Her moan was louder this time, more desperate.

A surprise-touch inside his mind startled him. He abruptly broke off his actions. They'd only started the exploration of each other's mind hours ago, and even though they were fully bonded now, Rose shouldn't have this much ability yet. Showing static images or projecting simple thoughts was one thing, to actively _reach inside _his mind a whole other business. Looking up, he sought out her eyes and was treated to another reel of animated dream-memory. He couldn't quite make out everything - the mental images were blurred through her complete lack of experience - but what he did see caused a giggle to escape his lips.

"Rose Tyler, you are a wanton woman," he husked. "Exactly how long have you been fantasising about me like that?"

"Mm, wouldn't you like to know." She stretched in perfect feline-fashion, looking at him down her nose. "You forgot a bit."

"Ah, this the same place you just so conveniently showed me?"

"Very one."

He crawled back up her body a small way. "Always ready to please my favourite human." He lavished several open mouthed kisses along her ribcage, dragging out her longing for his end-objective. Another wave of imagery nudged his mind. He stopped mid-kiss again, smiling teasingly against her skin, and sent a mischievous thought her way. _Consoles and kitchen-tables have rather hard, unforgiving surfaces, Rose. I'm sure you'd like it much better if I did all those lovely things right here. Very nice and cushy, this bed. Lots of room to play. _He was rewarded with a noise that sounded suspiciously like 'guh'.

Satisfied that he'd tormented her long enough, the Doctor moved his mouth higher until he finally came upon the place she wanted him to be. Oh, he wanted to be there too. A light flick of his tongue over her left nipple caused Rose to gasp, prompting him to have another go, slowly licking and sucking on her soft breast. She tasted a bit salty and he tried to place the exact flavour in his head. He knew he shouldn't be multi-tasking at a moment like this, but she was so delicious, he wanted to commit everything to memory. Then he realized that it was likely they would do this again, so he didn't have to be so anxious about losing the experience. Content, he switched his attention to her other breast and gave it a generous swipe of his tongue, then another more drawn-out caress, feeling her nipple harden beneath his lips. Rose was becoming undone under his attentions and started to squirm, so he put his right hand on her hip, steadying her. This seemed to have the opposite effect, though. She grappled for his shoulders, trying to pull him up, completely ruining a perfectly good fixation.

"Get yourself up here..." She could have said it in his mind, but her physical speech lost none of its urgency.

He crawled back up her body, and as soon as he came into reach, she gripped the sides of his head. Lips parted and tongues met in a heated kiss. Exploring the contours of her bottom-lip with his, the Doctor let his hands drift down until they found hers and she began guiding them lower. He knew what she wanted, but frankly he wasn't sure if he even had enough control left to enact any of the fantasies they'd shared. He closed his eyes momentarily, lest he become selfish and just take her on the spot.

He felt Rose going for his zipper, her fingers caressing him through the fabric of his trousers. Electricity sparked and ignited his nerve endings until he felt his entire spine begin to sizzle. Being a Time Lord, there was more truth in that analogy than he'd care to admit. At this point though, his mind was departing to places unknown, waving goodbye to even the most basic reasoning, so he just let the experience ride his system. But her touch continued to burn him and suddenly the second-hand feel through fabric was not enough anymore. _Trousers. Those had to go. Yes. No fun with them being in the way. _His hands joined hers and they giggled as they began tugging his trousers down together, boxers and all. Finally free of them, the Doctor attacked Rose's jeans with equal fervour. Unfortunately his motor-control was suffering from the effects of a diminished capacity to think. Rose laughed as he yanked at her jeans with one hand. "Your turn," he muttered against her hair. Rose giggled as she shifted her legs and he fumbled some more. He growled under his breath. "Off. Now." He tugged, she shimmied, and then there was nothing left between them but Rose's poor excuse for underwear.

The Doctor let his fingers stray across the elastic band of her knickers, teasing the edge. A small frown appeared between his brows and he paused. "Blimey, Rose. These are small. Is that even comfortable?"

She groaned out loud. "Maybe they're not meant to be worn. Only taken off."

A grin lit up his face like sunlight, and Rose felt her core begin to smoulder.

Exploring the layout of her lingerie further, the Doctor's attention became captivated by the contrast between her flushed skin and those pale-red knickers. He traced the delicate lace pattern with one finger, feeling the texture become slightly rougher as he moved down. He watched Rose as she began to stir beneath his touch, writhing in unresolved need. He became increasingly aware of what he could do to her like this, and his curiosity turned to wonder. Maybe it wasn't fair to deny them what they both wanted so badly by now, but she was beautiful to him in ways he'd never seen before, and he wanted to see more.

"Doctor…" Her voice sounded strangled.

He smiled and complied to her wishes by stroking lower between her legs. Experimenting with different amounts of friction and pressure from his fingers, he imagined what she would feel like without the increasingly annoying piece of satin in the way. In the end his curiosity won out. Moving up quickly, he reached inside her knickers and instantly marvelled at the slick wetness that met his fingers. He stroked up and down slowly, appreciating the feel of her warmth and the response she rewarded him with. Rose arched up beneath his touch and her hands gripped the sheets, clenching into fists. He smiled and ducked his head down to capture her lips. She moaned into his mouth and he continued to stroke faster, his clever fingers deftly manipulating her in one direction only. By the way her body was tensing, he could tell she was getting there fast. Too fast, he realised with a twinge of regret.

Rose sighed heavily when he abruptly pulled back his hand and left her cold to the touch._ No stopping_, she threw into his mind, already mourning the loss of those magic fingers._ Never_, was his only silent answer; that, and the soft swish of fabric against skin as he pulled the scrap of knickers down her thighs and threw it someplace nobody cared where. "My girl," he murmured in her ear, and slipped his hand between her legs to recapture the moment.

Sensing she wasn't content with superficial touch anymore, he carefully sank one slender finger inside her, gauging her reaction before bringing his thumb into play against her folds. Rose moaned deeply. He became enraptured; couldn't believe he was actually allowed to do this to her now.

Rose threw her head back against the pillows and her mouth moved wordlessly as he slipped in and out of her with infinite measure, steadily increasing his dominion over her body; his fingers dancing to the tune of her rapid breathing. She felt her insides melting; every important or trivial thing she'd ever wanted reduced to a single burning point at her core, _her Doctor_. The rhythm he'd set up only needed a few quick strokes more; then the tide came in and she was swept off into an ocean of bliss, her entire body clenching, then dissolving to the feel of a shuddering orgasm.

As the multitude of sensations gradually ebbed away, Rose briefly opened her eyes and was met by her lover's darkly aroused stare. Her lover. The oddity of it still took her breath away. She touched her fingers to his face and his eyelids lowered until they were nearly closed. He regarded her from underneath those hooded eyes and, amazingly, Rose felt her blood begin to boil again. Her renewed fever was matched in him.

_More? _He requested silently, almost like a hum at the back of her mind.

_More._

She confirmed her answer physically by running her fingers over his sideburns and feeling the slight scratch of them beneath her fingertips. He turned his head and kissed the palm of her hot little hand. He brought himself level to her and took the underside of her knee, hoisting one leg up. She followed his lead and wrapped the other leg securely around his hips, allowing her to feel the firm pressure of his arousal against her groin, their bodies perfectly aligned now. The Doctor stilled for a moment, his eyes a deep dark pool of desire. She shifted her legs further, opening herself and inviting him into her. She knew he wasn't assuming privileges with her – they were far beyond that – but she had to see his eyes when it finally happened. Too much had been hidden for too long. He gazed down, stilling for a fraction of a second before he moved up and Rose gasped as he pushed into her in one smooth stroke.

They moved slowly at first, adjusting to the new intimacy, the only sound in the room being their laboured breathing and wordless moans of pleasure.

_On impulse Rose reached out and actively sought his mind with hers, wading in, past surface-memories and the very real presence of his physical need. There were areas that were mentally cordoned off to her; thoughts and memories too private to be touched by any other than him. She left those in peace and moved on. Several lifetimes of dreams and expectations and longings flashed by and Rose began to feel something lacking._

The Doctor relished the dual-sensation of being inside Rose physically and mentally and grasped the side of the pillow next to her head, driving them forward. He wanted, no _needed_ her to stay with him.

_He let her browse his mind, like a visitor to a curiosity-shop, confident she wouldn't touch things that didn't belong to her, but also completely unaware that her wandering was changing into a purposeful stride._

Through their link the Doctor felt her release building fast, gliding in and out of her warmth in a rhythm Rose matched effortlessly. He shut down the part of him that existed solely for his own pleasure and focused on every exquisite move she was making beneath him.

_Even though his hunger for their lovemaking didn't waver, Rose sensed he was withholding a vital part of himself because he knew she would never be able to fill that place of him that was, and would always be, completely alien to her. No other than his own kind would ever be able to touch him there, and it left a silently ignored emptiness, tucked away in the shadowy recesses of his soul._

He drove himself forward, her fingers digging into his back and her hips arching up, meeting him thrust for thrust. She started calling for him incoherently and he pushed on to the finish, running towards it blindly as well as resisting the inevitable ending.

_He was holding back! Irrational anger invaded her mind. After everything, he still expected her to be ordinary, to be merely human. In a fit of temper she reached into his mind, further than she'd ever dared before. Ignoring his frantic attempts at blocking her, she stormed on and grabbed for that one place in his mind she knew would make him delirious with pleasure._

The Doctor gasped and his entire nervous system reeled in surprise as waves of ecstasy hit him and his eyes rolled back. He nearly came right there.

_She wanted him to lose control, wanted to see him writhe like he'd made her do, and she was ruthless in her pursuit. Completely, no holds barred._

Rose reached deeper, caressing, rubbing, squeezing, until he heard himself call out for her. "Oh, oh…Rose…" Her name rolled off his tongue in a long drawn-out whimper and even his mental vision began to blur. Nothing remained but wave upon wave of pleasure, but still he resisted. If not for her anymore, than for himself. As a telepathic being, the Doctor could have easily let her finish him without further physical touch. He no longer doubted that she could give him everything he needed in his mind, but right now he needed more from her. Much more. He wanted everything.

With a growl he pushed into her with renewed strength, even though his muscles were hinging on defeat, the rest of him was alive and screaming. He tried to keep his weight on one arm to avoid crushing Rose, but she was too far gone to even notice. Then she suddenly froze, every muscle in her body tensing. The Doctor shuddered and couldn't hold on anymore. One final push and their rhythm fell apart, the whole world shattering into a million fiery pieces.

They lay panting heavily as the waves of pleasure slowly subsided. Through his haze, the Doctor quietly revelled in Rose's warmth. He wasn't able to speak yet, didn't even want to, so he reached out for her mind and was immediately welcomed by a glowing sense of love and happiness. He could feel her everywhere, surrounding him, body and mind. He buried his face in her neck, that being the only thing he could do to stop himself from breaking down in sheer joy. He knew she must be feeling it too, for her shoulders had begun to shake ever so slightly, emotions echoing in the space between them. Even so, she was human. He knew she needed other forms of confirmation. He needed to tell her. Gently cupping the back of her head, he turned to face her.

"I need… You need to know," he stroked her cheek with his fingertips, "I…"

She cut short his struggle with a soft kiss. "I already know," she whispered, and smiled. "My Doctor. I love you, too."

A look of intense relief passed over his face, but Rose also saw a flicker of sadness, just before he hid it away from her. The Oncoming Storm, the man with the fastest gob in the universe, would never utter those three simple words with ease, but it didn't matter.

She wanted to say more, to explain, to reassure, but her mind and body suddenly refused to cooperate as a load of emotional and physical fatigue crashed over her. Her legs felt like iron weights and every muscle in her body was stretched and sated.

"It's all right. Go to sleep." The Doctor pulled the blankets up and covered their bodies before either of them could get cold. Spooning her, he draped one arm protectively over her side and she intertwined their fingers. Before she had the chance to register the kiss he placed to the nape of her neck, she had begun to drift off into a deep dreamless sleep.


	6. Forward Momentum

**A/N: Final part! I've sort of written a sequel-that's-not-a-sequel, and I'll post that later this week. (As a separate story, not a seventh chapter) It's a lot sadder, though, so you might guess what it is about. I've had such a ball writing this story, I couldn't just say goodbye to the verse and my own head-canon, and there might be other additions in the future. Thanks for all the reviews on this one! Hope you'll come back for more. :-)**

* * *

><p>The Doctor lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, which gave him an excellent viewpoint for admiring the figure lying next to him. Rose had been asleep for a while now, and he really wished she'd wake up. Actually, he'd been hoping this for quite some time - four hours, thirty-three minutes and seventeen seconds, to be precise. Rose was lying on her stomach, breathing in and out in slow, even puffs. The sheet across her back had ridden down a bit. At first this had happened because she occasionally twitched in her sleep - then he'd let his hands assist a little. In fact, he thought - his fingers following the curve of her spine without touching - he could trace a line all the way down without her even noticing. If he just slipped his hand lower, he didn't even need to move the sheet further. She suddenly stirred and his hearts leaped. To his disappointment however, she rolled over onto her back without actually waking up, the sheet tangling around her hips, although he had to admit this new position offered its own aesthetic merits. He still wished she'd wake up though. His hand drifted to her stomach of its own accord. <em>Oh<em>_, __the __things __he __could __do__._ He wondered if she would mind waking up to his fingers caressing her in certain places.

He was spared further consideration when her eyes fluttered open and she stretched lazily. Waking up and realizing he was watching her, a smile spread across her face.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello," she answered a bit sheepishly, not quite awake yet and feeling distinctly hazy, her body heavy and lethargic. First thing she noticed was the Doctor didn't look tired at all. On the contrary, he looked positively excited. She sat up, pulling the sheet over her chest, and surveyed the room. Remnants of last night's activities were strewn about on the floor and at the foot of the bed was a tray with a bunch of leftovers; it might have been sandwiches and fruit. Her stomach growled.

"How long have you been awake?" she said.

"A while." The Doctor let a guilty eye fall on the tray. "Actually, I made us breakfast. Making breakfast. That's good, isn't it? But you didn't wake up, and I wasn't going to wake you up. I know how you are in the morning, and besides, I was famished. So..well...I ate it. And it was ...well...tasty."

Rose bit her lip and nodded demurely, pretending to be disappointed.

The Doctor's eyes widened. "Of course I can get you something, what do you like, chocolate? Bananas, apples, _pears_?" He shuddered. "No, no. No pears. What else? Toast? Yes!" His eyes lit up and he hopped off the bed, rushing for the door without bothering to get dressed.

Rose watched him go and felt a shot of regret that he was wearing his boxers. She let herself fall back against the pillows with a sigh. Her stiff muscles protested against the increased action and fragments of the previous evening popped into her head with startling clarity. She grinned to herself. She tried opening their mental link to ask what the Doctor was up to, but it proved more difficult than last night to reach out. Must be her exhaustion, she figured.

When the Doctor returned, he carried a plate with a huge pile of buttered toast and jam on it, together with a mug of steaming tea. The smell of the food made Rose realise she hadn't actually eaten anything since the previous morning. She felt ravenous. The Doctor put the plate in front of her on the covers and her mug on the dresser to the side of the bed, then climbed back in next to her, watching her observantly as she attacked the toast with less than lady-like manners. Between munches, she glanced around the room. The candles had burned down hours ago, but now that they were both awake, the TARDIS had adjusted the lightning so that it appeared to be morning, accommodating her human biological clock. She swallowed another bite and eyed the Doctor who had fallen uncharacteristically silent. How amazing was it that she could be here in this beautiful place? With the Doctor beside her, _in __his __boxers__?_

She grabbed her mug of tea and took a generous swig. It went down well, the warmth relaxing the tight feel in her chest. So, if this was the dreaded 'morning after', it wasn't all that bad. If the way the Doctor eyed her was any indication of what their life would be like from now on, she reckoned she would have very little to complain about. His eyes were filled with something akin to what had been there last night. She swallowed again - without toast this time.

She placed the mug back on the dresser, and licked her lips.

"So," she began, then stopped as the Doctor suddenly leaned in and kissed her. It was a soft, gentle kiss with just a hint of silky tongue against her bottom-lip and it was lovely. Rose let him lavish more of his careful attention to her mouth. He had been rather obsessed with that part of her right from the start, and once or twice last night she'd wanted to tell him to change tactics - on the other hand, he was very good at what he was doing and she sure didn't mind more of it. Kissing the Doctor was like touching fire wrapped in silk. All his power, the beauty of him, hers alone.

He eased off the kiss and licked his lips in a pensive manner, then smiled. "Raspberry," he stated. Rose giggled.

"So," she started again, "What else have you been up to while I slept?"

"Mmm, pretty much nothing."

"Sure you didn't get bored?"

"I watched you sleep. That was entertaining." He knew he was fibbing a bit, but it wasn't all _that_ far from the truth. And somehow 'I wanted to feel you up beneath the sheets while your brain's delta waves peaked at an amplitude of two hertz' probably wouldn't make her idea of a romantic chat. He opted for the easy explanation. "You were dreaming. I couldn't make out what about. And you snored a little."

Her expression turned to disgust. "Oh my God, was I dribbling, too?"

The Doctor chuckled, amused at her sudden bashfulness, considering all the things they had done only hours ago. "You may always dribble on me. In fact, it might even be beneficial to your physical health. You know that spit is actually electrically conductive? Contains electrolytes. All those free ions hopping around in your mouth need monitoring, so regular sampling of your saliva could add considerably to my- hmmph." A pillow landed on his head, smothering his well-meant argument. He growled under his breath and pounced on the blonde-haired culprit. The tray at the foot of the bed clanged to the side. Rose rolled over, nearly laughing her head off. The Doctor trapped her beneath him, his knees on either side of her hips.

"No more talking, have mercy!" she heaved between laughs.

"Rose Tyler, I am the Doctor. I was made to talk, and you will listen."

"Nonono," she tried to put a hand over his mouth, but he gave it a wet swipe of his tongue and she pulled back with a yelp, wiping her hand on the sheets.

He grabbed her hands and spread them against the mattress, palms up.

"Oh, you think you're so impressive." Rose bit her bottom-lip again.

"You _know_ I'm so impressive. But what else _don__'__t _you know?"

With their mental connection not yet fully recovered, Rose fell quiet. The Doctor's words lingered in the space between them, the air nearly humming with electricity.

"I lied," the Doctor stated bluntly. "When I said I'd done the mind-link before. Well, I _have_ of course, but not with someone like you. You scare me, Rose. There are too many reasons why someone like you should avoid someone like me. Some lives are meant to stay apart. And I've pulled you into mine. Literally."

"Are you a bit thick?"

"What?"

"You still don't get it, do you?

"What don't I get?"

"You're still thinking up excuses."

The Doctor swallowed, his Adam's apple bopping up and down. He bent lower, until his mouth was next to her ear. "No, Rose, I'm not. Listen, I don't care if you snore, or dribble, or run around the TARDIS naked." He paused, reflecting on what he'd just said. "Okay, well, maybe that last thing I _would_ mind, but only because you'd have to beat me off you with a stick and that sounds really painful." He looked down again. "Anyway, my point being, I don't give a toss about our age difference, or the fact that you're human, and I _certainly_ don't mind that you finally opened my eyes to show this stupid old, new-new Doctor what he's been missing out on for years." He spoke slower to let his words sink in. "But what I _do_ mind is the fact that I can't tell you how much you mean to me. That's because there _are_ no words Rose. Not even in my own language, and certainly not in yours."

"Then let me say it for the both of us, Doctor." She looked him straight in the eye. "I love it when you babble. I love it when you think you're so impressive, because you _are_. Even when you're being too clever for your own good and you come out completely daft. And you're arrogant as hell. But you will never forget what it's like for all of us, being less than you. That's why you help people. Because you know we struggle. All the time. And that's why I don't mind being less clever than you, or younger or what ever. I will never leave you, because there is nobody who will ever match you."

The Doctor gazed down at her with undisguised awe. He had trouble formulating a response; suspected their might not even be one.

"How far does our link stretch?" she asked out of the blue.

He arched one eyebrow, trying to fathom where she was going with this. "Oh, well, I'm not sure. Quite far probably, anything short of a different universe."

"Okay, so even if we were separated, I'll always know where you are and come back."

"Come back? Even if I got you stranded on the opposite side of the universe, and I couldn't get to you?"

"Yeah. Of course. I'll just invent something. Some really nifty piece of technology that nobody's ever thought of. That's the sort of woman I am."

The Doctor started giggling. It wasn't the sort of laughter he normally engaged in, but this time it was well deserved, he thought. "Rose Tyler. Saviour of Doctors everywhere." He frowned. "No I take that back. Skip the plural. There's only one me. And right now I'm looking at the only you. And you're naked. Did you know that?"

"Got a problem?"

"Nope." He ducked down to prove his point. Rose squealed as he placed some very sloppy kisses along her throat and collarbone. Rose was quite sure where they were heading now, and it wasn't opposite sides of the universe. Her thoughts were cruelly interrupted when she felt something wet and sticky touch her toes and she gave a disgusted groan that had the Doctor pause in confusion to check if he'd done something wrong.

"My foot. Yuck, what _is_ that?" She pushed the Doctor off her lap and picked at the offending piece of fruit that was sticking to the sole of her foot. The Doctor's tray had tipped over and the remains of his breakfast were on the now not-so-nice blankets.

"I think you made a bit of a mess." The Doctor said innocently.

"Me? It's your bloody fruit. What is it with you and fruit anyway? Everywhere I go there's always peels and sticky-bits."

"Rose..."

"What?"

"You sound like a wife."

"You calling me a nag already?" She rolled off the bed and grabbed the sheet that wasn't messed up, wrapping it around her body, and stalked over to the wardrobe.

The Doctor crawled to the other side of the bed and jumped down to cut her off. She took two steps back and he followed. He snatched the edge of the sheet and pulled. She cried out and pulled back, the only result being less sheet to cover herself up with. The Doctor tugged at his end again and the momentum caused Rose to fall into him. He smiled. His motor control had certainly recovered in the past few hours, and so had his smugness.

"Rose, I called you my wife. But I meant it as a good thing. Unless of course you don't like it. Then I suppose I'll have to call you something else."

"Like what?" Rose said reluctantly. She wasn't ready to give up on her pout yet.

"Dunno. What about my Highly Regarded one? No? Too snooty perhaps." He considered for a second. "Cherished one? Most Favorite? Doll-face? _Pet__?_"

She slapped him in the chest playfully. "You're bonkers."

He grinned. "Oh yes!"

She pointed over his shoulder. "What's behind there?"

The Doctor looked behind him at the door she'd indicated. Rose used the distraction to snatch back her sheet and cover herself properly again. This might be the 'morning after' but she wasn't going to bounce around the TARDIS naked - whatever the Doctor said.

The Doctor opened the door and peeked inside. His smile widened. "Come and have a look."

Rose glanced past his shoulder into a decidedly non-Victorian bathroom. There stood a huge bathtub with shiny fixtures, and a wealth of gleaming blue-and-white tiles. On the opposite wall was a large rack with towels and bottles.

"How come this side's Victorian, and that one's not?" Rose said.

He shrugged. "No idea. That bedroom used to be my room. But it didn't look like this last week. One day I walked in, and everything had completely changed. She does that sometimes. The TARDIS."

"The TARDIS actually _redecorates_?" Rose sounded incredulous. "But how does she know, did she pluck everything from our memories, or what?"

The Doctor shrugged again. "She might even have had something to do with our initial telepathic link. Never happened before, but I wouldn't put it past her. I'd better have a stern talk with her later. Privacy, all that."

Rose grinned. "I don't mind. Just don't understand why."

"Got any particular reason you would for instance...well, say...have _fantasised_ about this room?" He leaned back semi-casually against the door-frame.

"Might have. Nothing to do with werewolves, though."

The Doctor took two steps forward, crossing over into her personal space, and adopted a downright devious look. "Rose Tyler, care to share with the class?" He took one corner of her sheet and started fiddling with it, then gave it the smallest of tugs.

"Okay, yes!" Rose yielded.

"Yes what?"

"I used to fantasise about you and me being in that room. In that bed. A lot. But it was all your fault. The entire time we were there you were all over me. Put ideas in my head, you did. And it kept cropping up over the past few days."

"Really?" He started rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, big fat grin across his face.

She shuffled her bare feet. "Did it mean something to you too?"

He didn't even hesitate. "Of course. Even before we got there. With that damn skirt. Really, Rose. You were practically changing clothes in front of me. Why'd you think I made that stupid joke about the bin-bag?"

Rose felt her confidence soar, so she kept up the interrogation. "If the TARDIS took the Torchwood-room from my memory, does that mean this...this _palace_ is yours?" She indicated towards the shiny new bathroom. "How does that fit into _your _fantasy?"

The Doctor tugged at his ear, unintentionally signalling his discomfort. He stared down at the floor. "That's sorta private."

"_Private__?_" Rose gaped. "After what I just told you? And the bonding and... and the _sex_?"

"You'll think it's stupid."

She gave him her most indulgent look, saying _try __me_.

He mumbled something and Rose shook her head, not catching any of it.

"I wanted to wash your hair," he repeated a little louder.

Rose's lips formed into a silent 'O' shape, before she closed her mouth and nodded. "All right."

His confidence returned as if he'd switched it on. "Really? You don't think it's a bit too 'serial-killer'?"

"Nah," she waved her hand and gathered up her sheet where it had slipped to the tiled floor. "You're more of an all-round maniac than a psychopath."

"Right. So does that mean I can run a bath?"

She turned to him and, standing on her toes, pressed a very delicate kiss to his lips. He closed his eyes and savoured the taste of her mouth. His hands found their way to her waist and he let them slip between the folds of the sheet. Her skin felt warm under his fingers, and soft like a peach. The kiss became a little less delicate as he moved one hand lower beneath the sheet and encountered a different type of warmth. He'd wanted to do this since before she woke up. To his defeat, Rose suddenly eased off their kiss and he felt rather bereft as she stepped out of reach. With a proud smile she turned and walked out of the bathroom, trailing her sheet behind her as if it were a royal robe.

"Definite yes," he mumbled, and proceeded to fill the bathtub.

-:-

"This one, or this one?" Rose held up two different bottles of shampoo, or what she hoped was shampoo. The labels weren't all that clear. The Doctor had already sat down in the bath and was playing with scoops of water, letting them run through his fingers.

He looked up and pointed to the right. "That one. The other wouldn't really make you happy. It's something they use on Peloosh Five to clean up children. Kids there have this really tough skin, like a hide, a bit scaly even, but most of it falls off later and they end up looking absolutely fine. Mind you, that stuff _is _ sold as an aphrodisiac on Kralor."

By the time he was finished, Rose had chucked the bottle into a very convenient recycling bin. She discarded the cumbersome sheet and lifted one leg over the edge of the bath, dipping her toes in the water to test it. The Doctor's mind jumped from detergents and bootleg-stimulants to a much more pleasurable subject. Rose sat down gingerly, a bit unsure on what to do next.

"So, have you done this before?" Rose asked, like she was chatting up a stranger in a bar.

The Doctor picked up on her sudden unease without fail. "No," he said, and lifted a hand, cupping her cheek. "I told you. Not like this. Not the way we are."

"But surely you must have, you know, had _feelings_ for others, before me?"

This was a subject she shouldn't have broached and she knew it as soon as she saw his eyes turn that little bit less transparent. She could have kicked herself. He'd been telling her over and over how special she was to him, and still she'd gone blundering in. To her amazement though, the opaque flash in his eyes passed and they became clear again.

"It's complicated," he said, then hesitated. He motioned with his hand for Rose to turn around and she did so silently, the only sound being the water flopping against the side of the bath as she sat down again, her back towards him. Now that she couldn't see his face anymore it felt like he released a mental sigh inside her head. Their connection was returning. Even through the sudden tension, she felt it work its calming effect on them both like a cool balm.

Taking the sponge from the side of the basin and sloshing soap on it, the Doctor started moving it over her back in long careful strokes. The alien soap didn't foam but caused Rose's skin to shine with an almost iridescent shimmer, like a mermaid's tail.

"I told you I was a dad once. That sort of implies that I had a significant other. Even my people had that concept. We weren't that cut off from our feelings. But imagine, Rose, spending your life with a single individual for hundreds of years. That's some commitment. It takes more than declarations of love and a bunch of flowers to make a partnership like that work. So our relationships tended to be a little more... well, calculated. A bit more arranged."

The Doctor applied the oily soap everywhere he could reach and still keep the pretence of decency, at least for as long as he deemed it necessary. His mind was beginning to cloud with images of a far more intimate nature.

Rose turned her head. "Arranged marriages?" She had a flash of insight. "Is that why you took me to see ourselves? Back on that rainy planet. Because you wanted to see if I understood what it would mean to be with you?"

The Doctor stopped his ministrations with the sponge and let it rest against her shoulder.

"Yeah," he said at long last.

"And I passed your little test?" Her tone got a bit cranky. She wished he'd carry on.

"It wasn't a test for you, Rose. It was one for me. And it was a stupid idea. Because it backfired and you very nearly died. And that's how it's going to be with me. A dangerous life." He resumed his work with the sponge but it had lost some of its charm by now. He threw it aside and let his hands slide over her arms instead, feeling the smooth effect of the soap and the water. Just touching her like this chased off a fair number of demons. She truly was his reprieve from himself, his salvation. He carefully poured water over her shoulders to remove every last trace of soap from her body.

Rose was eager to recapture some of their harmony. She shifted backwards and he assisted, putting her more or less in his lap, his front against her back. It was a very relaxing way to sit and she slid lower in the tub. From this position the Doctor had easy access to most of her - and he wasn't slow to pick up on that.

The Doctor moved his hands to her front and pressed her against him, hoping that she wouldn't want to leave now that he'd stopped talking. Being without their mental connection, even for a short while, already made him feel strangely vulnerable. As he began stroking her belly her muscles twitched involuntary beneath his touch. He drew lazy, circular patterns on her stomach and imagined he could feel her meld to the shape of his body like warm honey. His fingers drifted lower, until he found that place again that reminded him of how she had writhed in his arms the night before, and how hard he had come inside her. The mere thought caused heat to pool in his groin. He knew he wanted to feel that tightness again, and even though Rose's body was soft and yielding now, he was certain she wanted it too. He covered her entire warmth with the palm of his hand and cupped it, squeezing lightly. All at once Rose's passivity shattered and she tilted her head back, letting out an intense sigh that left her immediately flustered. The Doctor stifled a grin, smiling into her shoulder instead. The sudden feeling of warm skin under his lips left him reeling. He wanted to hear more of that sound, and he wanted to taste more of _her_, so he kissed her again, running his tongue over her neck.

Eyes closed, Rose took in the sensations like a parched traveller finally offered a drink. The Doctor's hands moving across her skin were like a potent stimulant, turning her thoughts to mush and creating fire in places she had forgotten could burn. Beneath her, she could feel the hard evidence of how quickly her longing was affecting the man she loved.

"I think we need to get out." The Doctor pushed at her sides, rousing her from the moment.

Rose stepped over the edge of the tub and grabbed one of the fluffy towels from the rack. But before she had a chance to use it, the Doctor came up to her and pushed her back against a ready-available stretch of wall, lavishing kisses to her mouth. He was urgent and even a bit needy. Rose felt the return of his arousal sweep through her body, the link intensifying and translating every one of his movements into a clear message. _Need__. __Now__._ The shared emotion triggered a response in her she hadn't expected so soon. She pushed into him with the same frantic need he was experiencing, mouths crashing, lips squeezing into each other and the purpose of hands reduced to caressing skin and hair and everything they could find. In moments, it was like she was reliving their first intimate contact amplified with the magnitude of a landslide.

Pressing her up against the wall, the Doctor sought out every inch of her he could find; her mouth, her breasts, her belly, until he couldn't go lower without kneeling. But she already had him at her feet since the day they met, so he acceded to her in the only possible way he could - physically sinking to his knees before her. He kissed her belly and her hands weaved into his hair.

He dipped lower and Rose cried out as his mouth brushed the hot centre of her desire, her world going into hyper-focus with him as the sole point of existence. The warm, wet touch of his tongue was gentle, insistent and excruciating, and almost more than she could bear. She pulled him up and he barely had enough time to draw in a panting breath before she crashed her mouth to his again.

The link was surging at full strength and Rose projected her wishes into the Doctor's head. _Bedroom_. But his reply was wavy and fragmented, like he'd lost all focus. _Can__'__t_. He grappled for her leg and she accommodated him by lifting it so he could take hold of her thigh without bending down first. His grip was tight and his mouth hot against her neck. It wasn't gentle lovemaking, nor was it rough either, but rather acute. With every second Rose felt his need for her building and her own matching his, and neither was going to end this just because there wasn't a convenient bed beneath them. He grabbed her below her other knee and lifted her up properly. The Doctor pushed up and Rose gasped at the sudden change as he filled her, satisfying their hunger to be close, closer still.

He calmed, before moving with surprising gentleness and ease, as if merely being inside her like this was enough to soothe his urgency. Of course it wasn't like that, and once they found the right angle his increasingly deeper thrusts soon became another challenge, one more hurdle to take, but she wasn't going to let him run ahead alone. Every stride he took, she would follow, right until the end. Rose clung to his neck as he slid in and out of her, and her ability to keep her mouth in check failed her - she cried out and threw a series of deeply arousing incentives his way. He moved harder and faster at each word and each moan that left her lips, until the cycle of need and giving rounded its final tour, exploding simultaneously inside their minds and bodies like a dam breaking. Together they rode the shockwave. Heedless, indifferent to time or place, until the only reality left was completion and boneless satisfaction. At last, the Doctor's grip on her legs faltered and Rose sagged back against the wall, without breath or power to speak. The Doctor slipped from her body, but retained a hold inside her thoughts, sending her wordless messages of devotion.

He tried to collect himself and pressed his forehead to hers, to allow them a brief respite and chance to fill their lungs with much needed air.

"I remember you calling this cheap," Rose husked.

He grinned, eyes closed and still out of breath. "Mmm, not always." He kissed her lips. Their minds rekindled without the slightest effort, but their exhausted bodies resisted anything more than tenderness. Together they found their way back to the bedroom and crawled beneath the sheets.

Before his head even hit the pillow, the Doctor was nearly gone already, sleep cruelly luring him away from Rose as she lay curled up in his arms, warm and secure.

"Doctor..."

"Yes?" He fought his way back to consciousness.

"Next time we take a bath together, if you still want to wash my hair, that's all right."

He smiled in his mind, but had no faculties left to make a decent reply, so he send her silent words instead.

_Rose__..._

_Yes__?_

_I love you._


End file.
